


Thing With Feathers

by AutumnalBlep



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Beta read after publishing because I'm way too excited, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional men, Enemies to Friends, Fix-It, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Male Bonding, Male Friendship, Minor Violence, Minor Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough, Original characters (don't worry it's a pet griffon), Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Redemption, References to Depression, References to anxiety, Snow, Suicidal Thoughts, Wings, wing angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-01-04 01:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnalBlep/pseuds/AutumnalBlep
Summary: In the aftermath of their gruelling battle in Modeoheim, Zack is victorious and Genesis has collapsed in exhaustion. However, instead of falling into the depths of the mako excavation facility, Genesis suffers from a terrible seizure and Zack finds himself face-to-face with the true horrors of degradation.And he is left with a critical choice.No pairings, friendship-focused, mentions of suicide/depression, piles of angst, hurt and comfort, ongoing. New characters added in tags when they appear.





	1. Shifting Loyalties

_I can't die like this_.

Clang after clang rang out, splitting the hollow air with bitter violence. Metal walls, that had once known silence for years, now echoed a deadly dance of swordplay between man and monster.

_I can't..._

Other sounds began peppering the pattern of blade striking blade.

_Clang!_

Shifting feathers.

C_lang!_

Gasps of pain.

_Clang!_

A body, hitting metal flooring.

...

And then, silence.

* * *

"Oh _hell…"_ Zack muttered breathlessly, leaning his sword into the floor and sagging his weight against the hilt. Exhaustion swept over him. Another minute, and _he_ might've been the one cut to the floor in defeat.

Instead, Zack found himself gathering his wits to survey the scene. From a safe distance, he observed the broken, fallen form of Genesis Rhapsodos, pity lining his face despite his animosity. The rogue SOLDIER looked _terrible. _His breaths were so ragged they made his entire body shake - right down to the ends of his, well...feathers. Zack could only imagine how much Genesis was seething inside from such indignity.

"_Dreams of the morrow...hath the shattered soul."_

Zack bit back an irritated sigh. Even now, on death's door, LOVELESS was on Genesis' mind. Stranger still, Zack felt a spark of relief that his opponent was lucid enough to talk.

"_Pride...is lost,_" Genesis gasped, forcing the words out with effort. Gritting his teeth, he painfully stretched out his wing in an attempt to stand.

"_Wings stripped away…"_

Shakily, the rogue SOLDIER's feathers gave a half-hearted flap.

"_The end...is nigh..."_

Zack grimaced, watching as Genesis struggled unsteadily to his feet, his wing flailing for balance. As the redhead dragged himself up, he lifted his head, and for a split second made direct eye contact with the younger SOLDIER. Zack had to consciously stop himself from reeling in that moment. Pallid eyes, filled with bitterness, pierced him with loathing.

And then, to Zack's dismay, Genesis lost his footing...and collapsed. Again. He lowered his head and looked away out of unexpected shame. _Why am I feeling so… guilty?_

Inwardly, Genesis cursed, searing pain lancing throughout his entire body, including his lifeless wing. Splayed pathetically against the grated floor, he held back a bitter laugh. _How fitting an end for me this is._

Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried to meet Zack's gaze, embarrassment coursing through him when their eyes locked. _That puppy is looking at me with _pity, _of all things…_

"Such is…" Genesis winced, struggling to maintain his facade, "the fate...of a _monster_." A lacklustre smirk pulled at his lips as if to drive the point home.

"We're not _monsters,_ you hear me? We're SOLDIER!" Zack retaliated, incensed. _When will Genesis let that go?_ His eyes flashed in anger. "Where's your _honour?"_

The degrading SOLDIER deemed this unworthy of an answer; it was bleedingly obvious in his own diseased mind. With considerable effort, he suppressed a cry of distress to try and push himself to his knees.

And then, _pain._

Searing, blinding, unyielding _pain._

Genesis howled in anguish as a thunderclap of agony burst behind his eyes. In seconds he was down again, curled up on the frigid floor, grasping his skull and whimpering.

Zack stumbled backwards in horror, his eyes wide. "What the hell…?"

He watched in panicked shock as Genesis began to convulse, his ebony feathers twitching erratically. Despite his trepidation, Zack then stepped closer, overcome by somewhat morbid curiosity and concern for the fallen SOLDIER. What he witnessed was beyond belief.

Old, cracked scars ripped open across the redhead's pale, ghostly cheeks and neck. Dark blood dribbled down his skin, marring his grey-streaked hair and tattered clothing. His arms, legs and lone wing convulsed unnaturally, almost as if they threatened to shapeshift into something even more monstrous.

In one final crescendo, Genesis released an agonised scream; an ungodly, tragic sound that shook Zack to the core, and then he went completely limp.

By now, Zack was on his knees, hovering beside the winged SOLDIER, acting as if he were about to intervene and offer help. He froze in surprise when Genesis ceased movement, and then quickly scooted away as his survival instincts regained control.

Anxiously, he looked for the telltale rise and fall of his ex-comrade's chest, and despite himself, audibly sighed with relief when he saw Genesis draw in a ragged breath.

"What in god's name did they _do_ to you, Genesis…?"

* * *

Modeoheim was a war zone.

Or, at the very least, it certainly_ looked_ like one. Dozens of lifeless bodies littered the icy town, bloody rosettes colouring the snow crimson.

From the edge of the Modeo bathhouse entrance, Angeal Hewley observed the scene with a depressed stare. From the looks of things, it appeared that all Genesis copies, at least in the area, had spontaneously perished from internal bleeding.

This did _not_ bode well for the state of his friend's declining health. Either Zack had finished him off...or degradation had finally won. What else could cause his copies to just..._die?_

Despite the blackness of suicide that clouded Angeal's mind, sad curiosity tugged at his heart. As much as he loathed Hollander, he had to at least ask before Zack reached them.

Navigating his way back through the decrepit, tiled halls, Angeal gingerly stepped over the unconscious forms of cadet Cloud Strife and Tseng of the Turks. He knew they'd be fine upon awakening, albeit with throbbing headaches, but he still felt monstrous about it.

Upon reaching the hall where Hollander was, Angeal quirked an eyebrow. Why was Hollander pacing so nervously? Minutes ago he'd been scribbling down notes and muttering things about his 'perfect' experiment, much to Angeal's disgust. The only disturbance was a faint chorus of agonised, distorted yelling, which led to his discovery of a field of dead Genesis copies.

"Hollander," Angeal began, deadly authority in his voice as he quickly approached the pudgy scientist. He spread his brilliant ivory wing in a threatening manner. "Why are all the Genesis copies _dead?"_

Though listening, Hollander paid him little attention and reached for a notebook. "Damn," he muttered under his breath as he jotted down something. "I thought I'd get more copies out of him before his cells spread too far…"

Angeal's eyes glowed with angry suspicion. He roughly grasped Hollander by the shirt collar and looked at him with piercing hatred._ "Excuse me?"_

"Oh, don't pretend you're concerned," Hollander spat, trying to shrug the ex-SOLDIER off with little success. "Once Genesis proved himself a failure, his only good purpose was creating an army. Fittingly, spreading his cells to others only increased his rate of degradation, but I was expecting greater numbers before it became too much."

"You complete _bastard,"_ Angeal growled, his feathers bristling. His grip on Hollander's shirt tightened. "You've been leading him on, only to _kill him faster!"_

A sickening laugh bellowed from Hollander. "It matters not. He's likely dead, as are his copies. Fortunately, I still have _you, my son."_

_...son!?_

Angeal faltered for a moment, and Hollander seized his chance, wriggling wormishly out of the larger man's grasp.

_Crack!_

Hollander didn't get far, however. He was no match for a well-placed fist to the skull and crumpled awkwardly to the filthy floor.

"Over my _dead body, _you dishonorable monster," Angeal seethed, brandishing a powerful Sleep spell over the fallen scientist. He brought his fingers to his lips in a short, sharp whistle, and a large, powerful griffon bearing his face swooped in. "Guard him, please," Angeal murmured, offering his copy a brief pet on shoulder.

With renewed determination, the winged SOLDIER then turned on his heel, made a running start, and launched himself through the hole in the ceiling.

His powerful wing caught an updraft, and in seconds Angeal was lifted higher and higher above the ruins of Modeoheim.

"I'm coming, Gen. _I'm so sorry."_

* * *

_Shit. This is so freaking awkward._

Zack inwardly squirmed with embarrassment as he tried fruitlessly to lift the deadweight ex-SOLDIER beside him. He _just _wanted to lean him against a wall. The floor was cold, filthy and bloodstained, and Zack felt _icky_ about just leaving Genesis where he fell. Cure spells had done nothing to wake him, so this was his only option.

Grunting with effort, Zack _finally_ managed to grasp a leather-clad arm around his shoulders. Bracing his legs, he lifted Genesis until he was sagging awkwardly against Zack's side. Without considering his opponent's altered anatomy, Zack went to support his back only to jam his arm into the underside of a wing.

"Damn," he whispered in surprise, feeling the alien sensation of feathers pushing against his skin. _Suck it up. It's just a wing. Keep moving._

With considerable effort, Zack somehow managed to drag his unconscious charge to the wall near the industrial elevator.

However, he was faced with a problem. A large, feathery problem.

After Zack had carefully propped Genesis up against the metal, his large, unwieldy black wing was now splayed awkwardly against, well, everything. _Surely that's not comfortable._

The young SOLDIER gritted his teeth. _Zack. You've dealt with weirder. This is nothing_.

"Rightio," Zack muttered, gingerly taking hold of the wing muscle near the huge primary feathers. Cautiously, he shifted the joint closer to Genesis, hearing the gentle shift of black velvet scrape the floor as he manually retracted the wing. "There. Done. Not awkward _at all._"

Satisfied with his work, Zack took a step back to consider the situation. Or at least, that's what he started to do, until a gloved hand that wasn't his rested on his shoulder.

Zack leaped away out of instinct, giddy with relief but also suitably _pissed_ at his mentor. "What the everloving _hell,_ man!? Can you _stop_ sneaking up out of nowhere?"

Angeal lifted his arms in apology, giving his pupil a rueful half-smile. "Perhaps Hollander slipped some _owl_ DNA in me somewhere. I'm sorry."

"Like hell you are," Zack mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. Goddess, Angeal was such a Pandora's Box to him! One minute? Angry! Trying to punch him! The next? Cracking weird-ass self-deprecating jokes!

Inwardly, Angeal was ridiculously relieved. Not only was Genesis still clinging to life, but Zack… Zack had tried to _help him._ In some strange way, he felt like a proud dad rather than a professional mentor. His student truly had a warm, kind heart, and if Angeal left merely one good thing behind in this world, he was glad it was Zack.

Still, seeing his student looking at him with a hurt expression stung.

"Why send me to fight Genesis? _Why? _He's _your_ friend!" Zack stared down his old mentor, confusion and pain in his bright, aqua eyes. "I didn't want to kill him! And then he goes and has a freakish seizure and nearly _dies_ anyway-"

Angeal gave a deep sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose. It all made sense. That's why the copies died; only the original was able to withstand such a nasty degradation flare.

"Zack, I can explain later-"

"No. NO! You damn well _won't_ explain it later! I'm tired of being kept in the dark, man!" Zack yelled, desperation on his young face. "Cut the crap. Neither me or _him," _he pointed at Genesis, "are going anywhere fast. Explain. _Now._"

Angeal bowed his head, and took a step closer to Zack. "I promise, I will explain. Hold me to it and punch me later if I don't. But right now, we _must_ help Genesis first."

Zack narrowed his eyes, and put himself right in Angeal's face. "You can talk_ and_ help at the same time, man."

"...'Geal?"

Stunned, student and mentor quickly looked at their fallen friend. Genesis let out a long, pained groan, his eyelids flickering as he slowly tried to keep them open. "You… wing… am I...dead?"

Zack had to bite back a laugh. Yes, the situation was dire, but he'd never seen Genesis incoherent and speaking somewhat childlike before. Angeal gave his puppy a withering look. Zack ducked his head and became serious once more.

"He's delirious. Degradation," Angeal whispered quietly. Zack nodded mutely, stepping away so as to not cause the redhead panic.

Angeal gently kneeled beside his old friend. "No, Gen. You're not dead. You just need _sleep."_ As he spoke, he cast a gentle but strong Sleep spell over an already quite groggy Genesis. The degrading SOLDIER's head flopped to the side in peaceful slumber.

Zack opened his mouth to speak, but Angeal looked at him pointedly and gave him the 'shush' gesture. "I need to buy us some time. Hang tight."

_Oh, you're not getting away from me this time,_ Zack fumed, ready to pounce on Angeal if he dared to try and leave. Seeing his pupil's irritation, Angeal held up a hand to stop him. To Zack's surprise, he gingerly sat down, closed his eyes, and appeared to enter some kind of meditative state.

"What are you doing…?" Zack whispered to himself, watching Angeal with hesitation. His mentor looked deep in concentration, his eyebrows drawing together with effort.

Minutes passed, and Zack was becoming more and more fidgety by the second. Where were Cloud and Tseng, anyway? It was weird enough that Angeal of all people had willingly sought him out. Why hadn't they shown up? And what would he do if they did? Here he was, actively trying to care for the man he was sent to 'deal with', and on marginally more friendly terms with his old mentor. _This is getting so confusing…_

Finally, Angeal opened his eyes, looking a bit drained. "Incoming. Not hostile. Don't panic."

Just as he spoke these words, two griffons - Angeal copies - came swooping into the mako excavation facility. Despite the warning, Zack felt his hand reaching for his sword, but thankfully resisted the urge. As the two giant bird-lions came in to land, Zack's eyes widened.

One of them was carrying a certain weighty scientist in its talons. A comatose scientist, but still.

Angeal saw Zack's exasperated expression. "We need to get out of here, Zack, but here's an abridged explanation."

Zack glared at him. _"Keep going."_

"All Genesis copies are dead. Hollander is a lying bastard who knowingly made Genesis degrade faster by making more of them. Tseng and that blonde infantryman are unconscious but okay."

Zack swallowed nervously, taking these revelations in. "And your copies?"

"Friendly. I can communicate with them."

Zack sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his mind overwhelmed. "Okay. Fine. Too much to process. I'll go with you - I'm feeling pissed at ShinRa right now. Degradation looks god awful."

Angeal gave a nod. He owed Zack at minimum a comprehensive summary, but escape was critical to ensure he could do it justice. He whistled sharply at one of the griffons and disguised a wry smile as it nudged Zack's hand, startling him.

"That's your ride, Zack."

"W-wait - you serious?" Zack stuttered. It was so disconcerting to see one of these scientific anomalies being… nice. Cuddly, even.

"Would you prefer I carry you?" Angeal raised an eyebrow, his smile widening.

"No, no," Zack stammered, quickly waving his hands. "This fella will do."

"Good. I'll carry the sleepy one."

Zack watched in amazement as Angeal almost effortlessly scooped Genesis up, his black wing hanging loosely but still largely folded. _Damn. He makes it look so easy._

"You'll need to carry this though." Angeal nodded towards the Buster sword that was gently resting against the wall. "Can't carry a man and a sword at the same time, you know."

"You trust me that much now, huh?" Zack quipped, grasping the hilt.

"Zack, I trust you with my life."

And, just like that, Angeal leapt into the air, his wing beating with power and determination.

"Hey, wait up!" Zack called, nervously settling himself on the griffon's back. A sharp whistle later and Zack found himself clinging to sword, fur and feathers as the creature took flight. The second griffon, burdened with Hollander, followed shortly. Both bird-lions released joyous caws and gathered speed while Zack struggled to keep his cool.

In seconds, the party soared through the entrance and out into snowy skies. Zack looked down, seeing whispers of the Lifestream caressing the fallen Genesis copies below, and compulsively swallowed with both sadness and relief.

He then looked to his right, seeing Angeal flying ahead with strength and precision whilst simultaneously searching the mountains below for a hiding place. And, in his arms, he noticed how small, fragile and broken Genesis looked.

For the first time since joining ShinRa, Zack Fair seriously began to question the morality of his employers.

* * *

Meanwhile, on a snowy, secluded outcrop, a small, suited woman began packing up her surveillance equipment.

_Zack… he's gone rogue, too._

Cissnei squeezed her eyes shut, memories of the events she had just witnessed swimming in her mind.

The biggest problem? She understood why. She had seen the seizure. Even as a Turk, she couldn't stop the dual feelings of horror and compassion at what she saw.

Her hands, clad in fingerless gloves, hovered over her laptop.

Deleting the footage and directly lying seemed like madness. Yet, it tempted her. She cared for Zack in a way she couldn't put her finger on, and now, she found herself feeling awful for Genesis.

_...what am I meant to do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Goodness me. I haven't graced the world of Crisis Core fanfiction in about 8 years. Hoo-boy.
> 
> Anyway, I'm back for a reasonably fresh start - and hopefully with a multi-chapter story that I'll actually finish!
> 
> Also, as per my old habits, we're back with a healthy dose of Modeoheim angst, this time peppered in with budding friendship.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the inaugural chapter and anticipate the next! :D
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a AutumnalBlep
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.


	2. Revealed Truths

Zack _could not _believe their luck. 

After circling the outskirts of Icicle Inn for an eternity, the party of SOLDIER, griffon and scientist had _finally_ spotted a rundown, abandoned traveller’s shack in the middle of a white blanket of snow. 

With Angeal’s now familiar whistle, he and his griffons began their descent, soft specks of orangey-pink light dappling their white wings as the sun dipped behind the mountains. After a completely ridiculous day, Zack was glad to see such a beautiful sight.

By the time they landed, acquired access (read: broke in) to the shack and sent the griffons out to avoid unwanted attention, the young SOLDIER wanted nothing but shut-eye.

Unfortunately, the hut only featured one tiny, musty mattress covered by an ancient blanket. At present, it was rightly occupied by a degrading SOLDIER curled up in his own wing for warmth. 

_Looks like he’s wrapped in a wing burrito… _Zack mused to himself from his position on the disintegrating sofa. He stretched his legs out ungracefully and released a long, tired sigh.

“How’s that fire going, Angeal?”

His mentor made a frustrated grunt. “Out of mana.”

However, seconds later, he felt a bottle smack into his head. 

“What, you think I came unprepared?” Zack questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Bottoms up.”

Angeal suppressed a chuckle and quickly skulled the ether, feeling an electric rush of magic tingle up his spine. “You’ve learned well.”

“I’m surprised you taught me good habits, given your pockets are empty.” 

“Touché,” Angeal returned, “but there aren’t exactly convenient item shops for fugitives.” 

Zack half-smiled in vague amusement and hummed, breathing out deeply with pleasure when the fireplace crackled to life. With little phone reception, a warm fire and friends, he could’ve mistaken this for a childhood camp...except for the lack of delicious food over an open flame.

Oh. Wait. _Food. _Zack began frantically rummaging through his various pockets. _I still have those SOLDIER energy bars...somewhere…_

“Eureka!”

“Zack! Keep it down!” Angeal hushed, motioning to the mass of black feathers on the bed. “Genesis..._really_ needs to sleep.”

“Ah, crap, sorry,” Zack quickly replied, his hand instinctively covering his mouth. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got those tasteless energy bars we love to hate… only three, but that’ll be enough for the night.”

“We’ll need to conserve some for our...other ‘friend’.” Angeal replied darkly.

“Can’t we just let that demon in white _starve_?” Zack eyed the slumped figure of Hollander in the corner. 

“Regrettably, no. He’s definitely hiding information.”

The younger SOLDIER suppressed a low growl and nodded, closing his eyes in defeat.

“Also, I think…” Angeal trailed off, his gaze falling, “...he may be my biological father.”

He absolutely _hated_ to consider it, but the resemblance was there...

Zack’s eyes were wide as saucers, but thankfully, he didn’t make a sound. His expression turned desperate, reading, “_for the love of god, just tell me everything, I can’t take it anymore.”_

“Firstly, the ‘G’ in Project G stands for Gillian,” his mentor began, shifting in place to have his wing sit more comfortably. “Not Genesis.”

“Your...your mum?” Zack whispered. Suddenly, he put two and two together. He’d overheard other SOLDIERs mention her after she passed away.

“To set the record straight, she...committed suicide. Because she was ashamed of her involvement.”

Zack shuffled closer to his mentor and awkwardly touched his arm. Angeal was stiffly rubbing a hand across his eyes. He took an almighty breath to try and steel himself.

“And Hollander...he kept calling it ‘our experiment’ whenever he mentioned her. Such a dreadful explanation makes sense.”

“That is so messed up.” Zack’s shoulders slumped as he briefly shook his head.

Angeal carefully eyed Genesis as he slept. “That’s not even the half of it.” 

The younger SOLDIER followed his gaze to see the unconscious redhead shiver in his sleep.

“Genesis… he was injured in a training acci-”

Zack interjected. “-I know, Angeal. Sephiroth told me.”

The older man quirked an eyebrow, and guilt squirmed inside his heart for his silver-haired comrade. He had no idea how Sephiroth was coping with all this…last he saw him, he was looking a bit thin around the edges. “Well, I’ll skip the part about Hollander savagely telling him how he came into the world.” 

His younger friend groaned in empathy. “Just thinking about it makes me nauseous. Poor guy.”

“Genesis was a different man after that,” Angeal continued sadly. “Distant. Angry. Closed off - even more than usual. And then, after he had left for the mission - the one you finished - in Wutai, I was left sitting with an email saying he and his lower-ranked comrades went AWOL.”

“Well, I can… I can start to see why,” Zack admitted, remembering his encounter with Genesis earlier. 

“And then, he approached me in Wutai, while you were distracted,” Angeal murmured, “and I humoured him. I was so worried, I agreed to hear him out in Banora. I looked past everything _wrong_ about the situation - even the copies - because we… we were friends.”

Zack nodded slowly. He still thought his old mentor was _crazy_ for leaving, but hearing it straight from Angeal made it feel… more understandable, somehow.

“And, well,” Angeal let out a bitter chuckle, “let’s just say… I didn’t handle the truth well either.” 

He blinked in confusion when an energy bar was thrust under his nose.

“Enough talk. Eat. You look like hell,” Zack tutted, waiting patiently for the older man to claim his dinner. Once taken, Zack settled down and ripped into his own bar. _Ah damn it, need to save a sliver for the bastard. _He broke a corner off and stashed it on the broken coffee table.

“Should we…?” He whispered, gesturing to Genesis.

“As much as I want him to keep resting, he also needs food,” Angeal admitted. “I just… I don’t know how he’s going to react to you...being here.”

Zack suppressed a snort. Surely his royal highness could handle a puppy? _But then again… he’s not aware I tried to kinda save him after kicking his ass… _

Angeal watched his student mull things over, giving him a chance to process his thoughts and come to a reasonable decision. 

“I”ll… I’ll step outside,” Zack mumbled, rubbing his bare arms. “But keep it quick; it’s getting bloody cold out there.”

And, with that, the young SOLDIER slipped outside into the snow. Angeal winced. He could already see specks of white starting to fleck on Zack’s raven hair as he quietly closed the door. 

_Well, I’ve got plenty of mana now…_

Angeal shot another round of Sleep magic at Hollander, then carefully picked his way over to the side of the bed, trying _extremely_ hard not to hit anything with misplaced feathers. He dragged up the only other seat available that was close - a rickety old stool - and readied a Dispel materia._ Let’s hope he stays...relatively calm when he wakes._

With a gentle wave of his hand, Angeal lifted the full weight of the Sleep spell, and Genesis shifted slightly. The white-winged SOLDIER waited with bated breath.

From behind his ruffled ebony feathers, Genesis cracked an eye open. Agonising seconds passed - or at least they _seemed_ agonising for Angeal. Surprisingly, the redhead made a quiet, mumbling noise that seemed to mean, “_leave me alone I’m sleeping and I hate everything,”_ and shuffled beneath his wing a smidge further.

“Hey, Gen,” Angeal whispered. _If only he was this docile _all_ the time._ “How are you feeling?”

“...like shit,” Genesis slowly groaned, fighting the heaviness of sleep in his pale eyes. Goddess, everything… _hurt._

“Telling it like it is, huh?” Angeal chuckled, amused by his friend’s bluntness. “What do you remember?”

“Your puppy...kicking my ass…” 

_Ah. Well, at least he isn’t suffering from memory loss. That’s a good sign._ “Anything else?”

Silence. Genesis brought a hand to his forehead, pain darting across his features. 

“Why...aren’t I dead, Angeal? Did… did your puppy not have the guts to finish me off?”

Angeal froze. Almost instantly, his mako-enhanced hearing detected Zack’s rapid footsteps and the door handle starting to turn.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

In a flurry of snow, hurricane Zack barrelled into the tiny room. “So cold...so freaking cold...I’m sorry Angeal, but-”

Now it was Zack’s turn to stop dead. He felt the familiar, piercing stare of Genesis Rhapsodos boring holes into his head, and slowly met his gaze.

“Finally a-awake, huh?” Zack stammered, half from the cold and half...from unexpected nerves. Even when dishevelled and wrapped in a ball of feathers, Genesis was still ridiculously intimidating. 

_Whoosh!_

In a flurry of black, the ‘burrito’ had vanished. Angeal cursed in pain at the force of being whacked upside the head with an oversized wing. _‘Docil_e’ _my ass._

Out of instinct, Zack scooted back, his sword drawn. Genesis, black wing unfurled and pushing against the ceiling, was awkwardly struggling into a kneeling position whilst his eyes darted around for his crimson rapier.

“Genesis, calm yourself! Listen to him!” Angeal tried to plead with his childhood friend, grasping his non-winged shoulder. 

The degrading SOLDIER roughly shrugged him off and drunkenly made an attempt to stand, rage burning in his eyes. Forget the rapier; he’d have to play dirty.

“You _traitorous dogs,_” Genesis spat as he strained to maintain his balance. “You’ve paired up to capture me, haven’t you?”

Zack swallowed nervously, and remained on the defensive. With his messed up hair, blood-stained appearance and shaking wing, Genesis looked positively _monstrous. _He inwardly winced at the thought. 

A dangerous ball of fire was already spawning in the rogue SOLDIER’s fist. Angeal, after recovering from the feathery blow to his head, was about to throw himself between them, but as soon as the threat appeared, it vanished. Genesis’ eyes half-rolled back and he lost his footing.

In a split second, Zack discarded his sword and leapt forward, taking the brunt of his ex-comrade’s fall.

“Hold on there, buddy,” he mumbled into Genesis’ shoulder pauldron, straining to support his limp weight. “I’ve got you.” He winced as he felt the older man tremble. _God, I hope he isn’t going to seize again._

Having observed Angeal’s techniques, Zack slowly straightened up, relieved that Genesis wasn’t completely unconscious and was somewhat trying to _not_ put all his weight on him. 

“Angeal, a little help?”

Together, the two men managed to get the degrading SOLDIER propped up on the bed against the wall. Genesis, with effort, tried to regain some clarity in his mind, but his thoughts were swimming and circular. He touched a gloved hand to his face and recoiled somewhat at the smear of blood he now had on his fingers._ How unsightly._

“Genesis, look at me,” Angeal commanded, trying to get his old friend to focus.

“..._what?”_ Genesis replied, still examining his hand.

“Please, Gen. Hear him out. Just for a minute.”

_“Fiiinnne,”_ he somewhat slurred, reluctantly looking at Angeal’s infernal puppy. “Explain yourself, small dog. Why _didn’t_ you kill me?

Zack steeled himself. This was water off a chocobo’s back. He refused to let Genesis get under his skin, even if it was half degradation talking. He sat on the edge of the bed and gave his enemy-turned-he-wasn’t-sure a level gaze.

“Genesis, I… I saw the true extent of your degradation. What ShinRa did to you… I… I think I can understand why you left.”

Angeal watched in surprise as the animosity started to fade from his friend’s tired face.

“Continue,” Genesis murmured, his gaze now more curious than antagonistic.

“After our battle ended, I saw you struggle, and I thought… I thought you might manage to get away. And...and I was going to let you. But then, you had a seizure and passed out. I tried to help, but…” Zack stammered, feeling somewhat embarrassed now. Sure, he tried to help Genesis, but only after _beating the crap_ out of him.

“But?” Genesis lifted an eyebrow, his expression darkening slightly.

“I don't know, man...cure spells were useless! I just...got you off the floor, and then Angeal found us…” Zack trailed off, looking away.

“You probably stopped him from bleeding out, at least.” Angeal quietly interrupted, trying to reassure him. His student noddedly mutely, face downcast. 

“Alas, cure-based magic does...little for my disease, I’m afraid.” Genesis slumped down the wall slightly in defeat, his eyes growing heavy. He was too tired to determine if Zack was playing at some ruse. Knowing how honour had been drilled into him, he was probably telling the truth. “I suppose..I should thank you. For not finishing the job.”

“Yeah, well, don’t push your luck,” Zack mumbled, trying not to glare at him. “I’m still _pissed_ at all the stuff you’ve done.”

“That’s rich, coming from a brand new _stray,_” Genesis scoffed, glowering at him. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

The younger SOLDIER let out a suppressed growl, his eyes glowing with irritation.

“Alright, alright,” Angeal interjected, stepping between them out of instinct. “That’s enough. We’re stuck inside this tiny hut _together_. Fighting will lead nowhere.” _Hm. Just like the old days, but with Zack instead of Sephiroth. How...uncanny._

Genesis suppressed a yelp when something small and hard pelted into his chest.

“Here. A tasteless peace offering.” Zack muttered. “Take it or leave it.”

“Ah, ShinRa’s finest,” Genesis quipped. “Not that it matters. My tastebuds are already half destroyed.” He took a bite of the bland-yet-dense energy bar.

“And for Gaia’s sake, clean yourself up or something,” the non-winged SOLDIER gagged. “You bled..._a lot_ after you seized, and I only saw your _face.”_

Redness dashed Genesis’ cheeks as he finished his dinner. “Goddess. How rude.”

Angeal gave a sigh, and leaned in to whisper. “He means well, Gen. Probably just wants some space. He’s seen _a lot_ today. Besides, somehow… this tiny place has a bathtub.”

Apparently, that was the deciding factor. Genesis mumbled something under his breath before making an attempt to rise. Though unsteady, he put a gloved hand out to stop Angeal from helping him, and wordlessly stumbled over to what appeared to be a bathroom and promptly shut the door.

“...did he really just say that…?” Angeal breathed to himself, eyebrows knitting together in disapproval. 

“What’s that?” Zack looked over at him quizzically.

“Oh, just something about getting...getting a copy to run the bath _for him,”_ his mentor replied tersely. “He won’t be pleased to know they’re all gone.”

“God, he’s going to burn this place to the ground if we tell him,” Zack moaned, flopping backwards onto the now unoccupied bed.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t noticed Hollander, either.” Angeal briefly observed their ‘prisoner’, who remained in a slumped heap.

“Forget the shack. This entire mountain’s going up in flames,” Zack whispered, staring at the ceiling.

“Come on, Zack… Gen’s not that unhinged.”

_“Yet.”_

Angeal gave Zack a pointed look. “I’m serious. We have to… treat him with respect. I know he’s done dreadful things. But, somehow, we have to help him find his _humanity_ again.” 

This time, it was Zack’s turn to return the hard, serious gaze at his mentor. “Just so we’re clear, that _doesn’t_ mean lopping off wings.”

His mentor gazed ruefully at his own feathers. “I suppose… you may be right. Besides, having one is... _practical_ right now.”

“It’s more than _practical,_ man...” Zack trailed off. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but decided against it._ This is a conversation Genesis should be here for, anyway. Even if he yells at me._

Silence then drifted between them, broken only by the occasional muffled splash. 

Zack looked confused. “Isn’t he a popsicle in there?” 

“Materia isn’t just good for _fighting_, you know. That hothead is loaded with fire magic. You open that door and it’ll be a sauna, trust me.” Angeal shook his head and smiled slightly.

An hour later, and his mentor was proven correct; the bathroom door cracked open and plumes of steam spilled out. A much cleaner Genesis then appeared, mid-way through putting his black turtleneck back on. For a second, Zack caught a glimpse of the severely cracked skin that marred his chest.

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” Genesis hissed, flicking damp feathers forward to conceal himself better. He then cursed under his breath as he struggled with the poorly sewn makeshift buttons that kept his ripped, frayed shirt secure around his wing muscles. 

Angeal arose from the stool, and approached his friend to offer assistance. 

Genesis gently pushed him away. “Don’t. I’m fine.” He slipped the last button in, then slowly padded with bare feet toward the bed.

Zack sheepishly moved to stand, expecting Genesis to lie down and shoo him away. Instead, the degrading SOLDIER sat down on the other end, slowly unfurled his drippy wing, and stared listlessly into the fireplace from across the room.

“Uh…” Zack started, feeling feather tips clip his back. “What are you doing?”

Genesis gave him a lazy, irritated stare. “I’m _trying_ to let my _wing_ dry. Is there a problem?”

“No, no...no. It’s fine. Go ahead.” Zack returned to his position, noting that Angeal was carefully using his bulk - and his wing - to block Hollander from view. “Do you...feel any better?”

“Hm. You’re concerned for me. Fascinating,” the redhead mumbled, examining his fingernails to avoid the glare his childhood friend gave him. “Yes. Unfortunately, you were right. There _was_ a copious amount of blood. Very graphic. You should look in the bath.”

“Think I’ll pass,” the younger man replied, pulling a face. 

“I cleaned it, you idiot,” Genesis sighed, closing his eyes.

Meanwhile, Angeal had taken the opportunity to retrieve the rest of his friend’s clothes. He carefully draped them over the sofa, noticing that Genesis had somewhat soaked them after trying to scrub the blood off. He frowned. _Hope he used cold water for that._

“Goddess Angeal, you’re not my mother,” Genesis moaned, “I could’ve done-”

Suddenly, Genesis froze.

Angeal saw the deadly expression on his friend’s face. _Ah. Here we go...he’s spotted the white elephant in the room. _

“Damn...there goes the mountain,” Zack hissed under his breath, flames dancing in his mind. He yelped and instinctively ducked to avoid being smacked by a wing as Genesis clumsily leaped to his feet.

“Why...why is _he_ here?”

Wearily, Angeal gently approached his friend and placed a hand on his arm. “Gen, you’ll want to sit down for this. Please.”

To Zack’s shock, Genesis actually...listened. He watched as the usually fiery, hot-tempered man reluctantly claimed the stool...and then noticed the dark, shadowy circles under his eyes. Zack’s brows creased in worry. Genesis was so damn tired he couldn’t even fly into a rage anymore. _This isn’t good._ He found himself almost _wanting_ the threat of a firestorm.

Angeal, claiming the sofa, took a long, deep breath, appearing to prepare himself. He then met his friend’s exhausted gaze.

“All your copies have died.” 

Both men waited with bated breath for the other’s response.

“I know. I felt it.”

_“...what?”_ Zack mouthed to Angeal in utter shock. Did a copy somehow replace the _real_ Genesis during his sojourn in the bathroom? _How the hell is he so damn calm? _

“It… was during the degradation flare,” Genesis said slowly, the gut-wrenching memories slowly piecing together again. A haunted expression ghosted across his face. “Their pain became my pain...I heard their screams...inside my head.”

“That’s _horrible…_” Zack breathed, at a loss for how to process what he was hearing.

Genesis put a hand up to his forehead in silence, the countless deaths of others bearing his face assaulting his fragile psyche. 

Angeal glanced at Zack, seeing him nervously mouth, _“do we tell him the rest?”_

In a bid to distract his old friend, Angeal gently broke the silence. “Genesis, I’m rather surprised that I’m not currently restraining you. Last I saw, you were trying to _kill_ Hollander.”

This somewhat lifted Genesis from his mental onslaught. “He let slip that Jenova cells might help. I was most enraged he had failed to tell me earlier.”

Zack pulled an alarmed face, but resolutely, Angeal powered on. _The sooner he knows, the better_.

“Hollander has been hiding_ much _more. He created your copies _knowing_ it was going to make you degrade faster, and he didn’t give a damn_. _He was just stringing you along with false hope.” 

“In short, Hollander used you and is a dirty, lying bastard,” Zack interjected.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as the three rogue SOLDIERs processed these developments.

“So,” Genesis breathed in after a few minutes, making a noble attempt to keep his emotions in check, “the _monster’s_ fate is sealed.”

For a moment, Zack figured he meant Hollander, but quickly noticed Genesis was examining his feathered self with hatred.

“_My friend, the fates are cruel…”_

“Genesis…” the young SOLDIER started, seeing his ex-comrade falling into the depths of his own mind. Despite the apparent awkwardness, he hesitantly touched the top edge of Genesis’ silky black wing as a show of support. _It’s part of him, just as much as an arm. It counts, right?_

“We’re going to interrogate the _hell_ out of him, don’t worry,” Zack murmured, trying his best to be of comfort. “There has to be_ something_ we can do.”

Surprisingly, Genesis neither flinched nor shrugged him off. Instead, he quietly stood up, his wing moving naturally so that Zack knew to pull back. 

“I… need to be alone, Fair,” he mumbled, “but, I appreciate your words.”

Genesis slowly made his way back onto the bed. With effort, he hesitantly lowered himself, curled up and folded his wing into the familiar burrito form Zack had seen earlier.

Understandably, Zack rapidly moved from the bed’s corner to give his fellow rogue adequate space. Angeal silently motioned him over.

“You did good,” his mentor whispered, seeing his young friend’s shoulders sag from relief. Of course, he knew when Genesis dismissed himself from a conversation like that, he was merely hiding behind his usual defensive facade. Under that wing, Angeal_ knew_ there was an emotional war going on. Genesis was not one to react to news about impending death lightly.

“You think?” Zack replied, his voice barely audible. He looked back at the redhead with uncertainty.

“You tried to be a friend. Genesis really needs that right now, despite how he may act most of the time.”

A dull, pulsing vibration broke their discussion. 

“Is that... a PHS?” Zack murmured quizzically, turning his head to try and locate the noise.

An odd expression formed on Angeal’s face before one of realisation took over. “Ah. That’s Hollander’s phone.”

“Who the hell is calling _him_?” Zack made a face.

“I think I know…” Angeal trailed off, leaning down beside Hollander to raid his pockets. He claimed his prize, flicked the phone open, and put it to his ear.

“Director Lazard,” he said quietly in response. “Hewley here. Hollander’s taking an extended nap.”

Zack’s jaw nearly hit the dusty floor.

_Why in Gaia’s name is Lazard in contact with Hollander!?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And thus, the plot thickens!
> 
> Also, the wing burrito. Honestly my favourite part of the chapter. What a hilarious image. :P
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the character-focused developments! I think Genesis might be 5% less of a jerk by this point. Any step in the right direction is a good one, I suppose!
> 
> Let's hope I can get Chapter 3 done relatively soon. I can't hold to a tight schedule because adult life, but my mind is bursting with inspiration, so we'll see!
> 
> Until the next chapter, friends!
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a AutumnalBlep
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.


	3. Forming Plans

_“Well, you’re certainly not dead.”_

“A ‘hello’ would have sufficed,” Angeal chuckled lightly, trying to ignore the infuriated and confused gestures Zack was making next to him. 

_“I’ve never had a _Turk_ of all people lie directly to my face,”_ came Lazard’s response. He sounded oddly relieved. _“Given this news, I decided it was best to call and see for myself.”_

“Well,” Angeal paused briefly, struggling to keep Zack quiet, “I’m alive, and Genesis is trying to be, but Hollander… seems to be trying to ‘fix’ that.”

His voice then went deathly serious.

“Lazard, I trust you are a man of good faith. Did you know that creating copies was_ killing_ Genesis?”

_“I merely wanted to bring down the oppressive empire my ‘father’ has built,” _Lazard contemplated, concern drawing his features together. _“Killing a fellow victim of his regime was never a part of the plan.”_

“You may wish to consider Hollander a part of this ‘oppressive empire’, Director. Your army has come precisely at the expense of Genesis’ health, and all copies bar the original have died from degradation.” Angeal felt anger best deserved for his old friend, not Lazard, rising in his chest. “Those copies were _men._ They had _families._”

_“A ‘distortion’ amongst my own schemes,”_ Lazard sighed, leaning back into his home office chair. _“Perhaps I am my father’s son.”_

“Perhaps you are...and perhaps_ I am,_” Angeal cast a loathing glance at Hollander. “But any shred of honour I have left demands we change our tactics. No more bloodshed.”

_“Well, that’s easily done with a non-existent army, Commander. Our little revenge party is down to myself, you, Genesis...and, if I’m not mistaken, Zack Fair.”_

“Yeah, no _shit,_ Director!” 

Zack snatched the phone from Angeal’s hand. He was _done._

“Seeing Genesis _nearly die_ was bad enough,” the young SOLDIER exclaimed, his eyes flashing. “And now, you’ve been a traitor this whole time too!? ShinRa is a bloody mess!”

“The puppy _finally_ gets it,” they heard Genesis sleepily interject from across the room. 

“I agree,” Lazard respondly simply. “Although, it was wise they sent a Turk to watch you in secret, Zack. You abandoned ShinRa like they feared you might after all.”

“Wait- who?” Zack questioned. “Not Tseng!?”

Lazard’s muffled chuckle came through the speaker. _“No, too obvious. It was Cissnei.”_

“Was?” 

_“Well, according to her, the mission is over. She reported you and the others dead.”_

“Are Tseng and Cloud okay?” The young SOLDIER looked panicked. 

_“Cissnei said she arranged transport for them back to Midgar.”_

_I thought Cissnei was as loyal to the Turks as one could be. Why would she cover for me...for _us_?_ Zack went silent as his thoughts raced.

_“Lucky for her that I’m not loyal to ShinRa, or things might’ve turned...sour,”_ Lazard sighed with relief, glad he wasn’t the only high-level employee questioning the company. There was definitely potential for leverage there. _“The reports on deceased Genesis copies served as a convincing alibi, too.”_

“If I may,” Angeal interrupted quietly, putting his hand out for the PHS. Zack reluctantly obliged.

“Director, I need to ask… how is Sephiroth coping these days?” The white-winged SOLDIER felt guilt, sadness and homesickness twist through his heart. He...missed him.

_“Unfortunately, I’ve never seen him more buried in his work. I’ve naturally been keeping him occupied, but somehow, he’s even more...aloof than usual.”_

“Damn,” Angeal whispered under his breath. “Thank you, Lazard. So long as he’s hanging in there.”

_“I doubt he’s convinced by the internal ‘confirmation’ of yours and Genesis’ deaths, but at least there won’t be any further missions coming in concerning either of you. Although, Zack’s reported demise… Sephiroth curtly left the room when he was told.”_

“Sephiroth, I’m...sorry,” Zack mumbled, bringing a hand to his face and leaning into it. _Who can he confide in now?_

Lazard cleared his throat. _“Okay. On to business; my time is short. Angeal, let Zack know that I’ll remotely patch his phone so it can’t be traced by ShinRa.”_

Zack, of course, easily overheard this. He let forth a silent whoop. _Yes! I’m calling Aerith as soon as the sun rises…_

Lazard, knowing how Zack was likely to react, continued. _“_Don’t_ let him call his girlfriend. Texting only. She’s under Turk watch - we can’t afford to raise any suspicion.”_

Angeal suppressed a smirk as his young friend’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Anything else, Director?”

_“You can drop the formalities, Angeal. I’m no ‘Director’ these days,”_ the blonde man replied, shaking his head in mirth_.“I need you to formulate a plan for how we handle our bloodless revenge. Lay low and I’ll keep ShinRa out of your feathers from here. Also...send Genesis my apologies.”_

“Will do, Lazard. Thank you for buying us time.”

_“However long it takes for ShinRa to fall, so long as it does, I’m satisfied. I’ll call again in a few day’s time. Talk soon.”_

The call clicked off and the PHS went silent. Angeal pocketed the device and stooped down to tend the fire. _Hollander can have his beauty sleep until morning. Then he’s going to talk. Or else._

“So, a Turk covered for us,” Genesis mumbled, pulling his wing tighter for warmth. “ShinRa’s in greater discord than I thought…”

“I’ll say...” Zack trailed off. He headed to the bathroom in preparation for sleep.

“Lazard sends his apologies, by the way.” Angeal turned to look at his drowsy friend. “He didn’t know about Hollander’s lies either.”

“Ignorance is bliss, my friend,” Genesis whispered, closing his eyes in exhaustion. “Time to rest.”

Suitably dismissed, the white-winged SOLDIER stood to ready himself for slumber, and within ten minutes, the trio of rogue SOLDIERs fell into dreamland. Angeal, though sitting upright, had fallen asleep on the right-hand side of the sofa. Peeking beneath his relaxed feathers on the left was Zack, unceremoniously using his mentor’s wing as a blanket. 

Outside, the wind swirled and powdery snow covered the small house, concealing it almost entirely.

...even the Planet itself seemed to want them hidden. 

* * *

“Wake _up, _you fat bastard.”

Groggily, the bedraggled, pudgy scientist let out a groan, his eyes opening to see the sharpened tip of a blood-red rapier millimetres from his neck.

“Hmph...” Hollander sneered, recoiling further against the wall, “I see you survived… but _barely._”

Genesis narrowed his pale eyes. After awakening earlier that morning, his entire body was so stiff and sore, he could barely move. The most threatening position he could muster was sitting upright on a stool adjacent the captive scientist, his feathers puffing up with hatred. 

“Don’t toy with him, Hollander.” Angeal approached, his fists clenched in case the scientist thought about escape. “You’ve led him on long enough.” 

“What’s the cure?” Genesis hissed with contempt, a mako-glow briefly flickering in his eyes.

Hollander rolled his eyes. “My boy, I told you before. Jenova cells.”

“Bull_shit!_” The redhead retaliated, fire sparking to life around his left hand. “You’ve led me on for two _entire years_ on the false premise of a cure! You were bluffing! Tell me the _truth_!” 

This time, fear darted across the scientist’s face. Angeal had obviously told Genesis the true nature of copy creation and how it was killing him. No Genesis army, no copy equipment...this was rather precarious indeed. Perhaps, this time, there wasn’t a way he could twist the situation to his advantage. 

“If don’t give me an answer in_ five seconds-”_ Genesis flexed his right hand, drawing a trickle of blood down Hollander’s neck.

“Sephiroth! It’s Sephiroth. _He’s_ the cure,” Hollander spat, disgraced at having to admit it. His blasted colleague’s _perfect monster_... 

To everyone’s surprise, Genesis lowered the sword, and just started _laughing_. It wasn’t a happy laugh, no; it was sarcastic, caustic and… broken.

“Of course… of course it’s Sephiroth…” Genesis breathed as his laughs gave way to soundless shakes. “Better than myself at everything, including _being a genetic abomination…”_

Angeal gave Hollander a piercing stare, his eyebrows drawn down in hatred. “You _knew_, didn’t you?” He stooped down to grasp his wretched father by the collar. “That’s why you refused Sephiroth’s offer of a transfusion! That _was_ the cure!”

“As if I’d give_ Hojo_ that satisfaction,” Hollander seethed. “Besides, we needed an army. That’s all _that_ failure was ever good for.” He motioned his head at Genesis.

Angeal roughly threw him back on the ground. “You pathetic, selfish _monster_.” He spilled the crumbled parts of SOLDIER energy bar into Hollander’s lap and turned to check on Genesis. With food presented, Hollander immediately deduced he was still of value to them, and so ate without fear.

Genesis looked at his old friend with a tired, confused expression. “You mean to tell me… that Sephiroth tried to offer his help to heal my injury?”

“You daft birdbrain,” Angeal chided, seeing the pain of degradation slowing Genesis down, “you might be stuck with this ‘rival’ complex, but Sephiroth...cared for you. More than a sparring partner.”

“And you also mean to tell me that Hollander _stopped him? _Because he _knew!?”_

A degradation-sparked rage flared in Genesis’ shadowy eyes. It still dumbfounded Angeal how quickly his friend shifted between moods. 

This time, Angeal didn’t stop him. Instead, he said, “feel free to do the honours.” He _hoped_ Genesis understood this didn’t mean kill. 

Thankfully, Genesis caught the drift, still sober enough to know they needed the scientist. He threw a dangerous punch at Hollander’s head and knocked him clean out, sending crumbs flying from his mouth.

At that moment, Zack waltzed in, his arms laden with brown paper bags.

“What, I missed the show?” He whined, seeing Genesis just after his fist had connected with Hollander’s face. 

Genesis offered a smirk. “What a shame, Fair. It was so deliciously_ dramatic.”_ He emphasised the last word with a hint of pain in his voice and settled back down on the stool to rest.

“I don’t know, man,” Zack smiled, “what’s in _here_ is way more deliciously dramatic. I’ve brought _real freaking food, baby!”_ He spilled the contents out onto the rundown coffee table.

Angeal curiously leaned over the ingredients, his mind whirring into action over what sort of dinner he could conjure later. At least Zack had made somewhat reasonable purchasing choices and had come back with non-perishable goods, save for bread and eggs.

“Oh, Genesis!” Zack grasped a small jar that was threatening to roll off the table edge. “No idea how old it is, but I found Banora White jam in the Icicle Inn general store! Looks like it’s spiced with cinnamon. Make some toast or something.”

Genesis felt the jar pressed into his hands and watched as Zack then bounced over to the tiny kitchen sink to wash his hands. _Why…?_

The young SOLDIER turned around and saw the redhead still studying the jar in confusion.

“God, Genesis, it’s a _gift!_ I just thought of you, that's all," Zack chuckled, rummaging around for any stray cooking utensils. _Gonna have me some eggs…_

Angeal caught a glimpse of his childhood friend_. Was...that a smile...?_

Before he could be sure, Genesis arose to try and toast bread with Fire materia. If anyone was going to crack his friend’s angry exterior, Angeal mused, it was going to be Zack. Even if it took months.

Soon, the three unlikely companions were sitting around the coffee table enjoying their first proper meal in days. Both Zack and Angeal had to make do with eggs shared straight from the only frying pan the tiny house had (sadly, their searching hadn't yet revealed any plates), whilst Genesis balanced toast slathered in dumbapple jam on his lap.

“Thanks for braving the flight to Icicle Inn, Zack,” Angeal smiled, nudging his young friend.

Zack ran a hand through his hair. “I’m _way_ less recognisable than you two. And I think Cobalt was starting to miss me.”

Angeal raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “You named one of my griffons?”

“He’s _my_ griffon now,” Zack puffed up proudly. “You might have some influence on him, but Cobalt’s still got his own personality.”

“So, we’ve got ‘pets’ now," Genesis murmured, sniggering slightly. His expression then turned sad and wistful. “At least...your copies seem to be..._happy_.”

An awkward silence hung in the air after the degrading SOLDIER spoke. 

“Eat now, brood later,” Zack insisted, waving a slice of Genesis’ toast under his nose. “Besides, having breakfast with you two? Beats the shlop ShinRa serves any day.”

“Now that’s one thing I _won’t_ miss,” Angeal reminisced, slicing off another chunk of egg with his pocket army knife. Cutlery was also in short supply. 

“I can’t believe you still ate breakfast at the _mess hall,_” Genesis shuddered between bites. “It was that cafe in Sector 8 or nothing for me. Goddess, they even had LOVELESS-themed menu names.”

“Sure. It was the improvement in _food quality_ that made you go there. Absolutely _no other reason at all.” _Angeal gave a knowing smirk. 

Zack laughed openly as Genesis gave his childhood friend a scowl. 

“Besides, the company-provided food was _free_. I was just being frugal,” Angeal continued matter-of-factly, chasing egg remnants around the pan.

“I think you mean _‘cheap’_,” Zack quipped, competing for egg with a fork. He then glanced between his two companions, briefly debating whether to say what he was thinking before committing. “Not cheap enough to steal your bestie’s dumbapples, though.”

“_Angeal_,” Genesis whispered, looking hurt. “You were always welcome to them.”

“From _your _perspective,” Angeal replied solemnly. “From your father’s? Not so much.”

“Well, he _was_ a conniving beast.” The redhead felt heat colour his face as anger flared inside him. “As was my ‘mother’.”

Worry creased Zack’s brow. This conversation was taking a turn he didn’t like, but the topic was one he _did_ want answers to. He wanted to at least _try_ and see where Genesis was coming from.

“Genesis, I’m trying to understand,” Zack began, a mix of hurt, fear and confusion playing in his eyes. “_Why_ did you kill your parents?”

Angeal’s glaze widened in concern at such a blunt question. Even _he_ could see this might end in a fireball like last time. Genesis was rapidly tensing up, and suppressed aggression danced behind his eyes. _Tact, Zack… tact._

“You wouldn’t understand,” Genesis hissed quietly, depositing a half-finished piece of toast on the table before turning himself away. 

Zack decided to take a guess. “Were they… your biological parents?”

“Perceptive, puppy,” came Genesis’ clipped, sarcastic response. “No.”

“Foster?”

“Adoptive. But only because they were _paid,”_ Genesis spat. “I was just another _assignment_ to them. They were ShinRa executives, told to raise me and watch for unusual changes. Because I was an _experiment._”

_Okay. Messier than I thought,_ Zack winced. 

“All that time, they _knew_ what I was.” The degrading SOLDIER closed his eyes, flicking his wing to make the point. “By the time they admitted everything...it was too late. The degrading monster and his brethren lay waste to the town; including them.”

“I’m...sorry for how they lied to you,” the younger SOLDIER started, his voice still laced with bewilderment. Looking up, he made piercing eye contact with Genesis. “But the massacre? What the everloving _hell, _Genesis?”

That was the straw that broke the chocobo’s back. But not in the way _anyone_ expected.

Zack watched in dismay as Genesis crumpled from the stool to the floor, knees scraping the ground as he kneeled over in a feathery ball. Quiet, tearless sobs shook his weak frame. The guilt was so strong he found no answer worthy.

_Shit_, Zack reeled, his mind racing at what to do. He looked helplessly at Angeal, who had moved to softly touch Genesis’ trembling shoulder.

“Slay...the _monster_...Fair,” Genesis whispered between sobs. “It’s...what you came...to do. Finish...your mission.”

Zack knelt down beside him.

“No, Genesis. That’s the easy way out.” 

The redhead looked at him with dishevelled hair and bloodshot eyes.

“You’ve done horrible things to _stay alive_. Don’t waste unwilling sacrifices. You need to live with what you’ve done, and _fight_ to make it right. You owe the world _at least _that._”_

Mutely, Genesis half-nodded in recognition as he suppressed another heave. Except this one wasn’t emotional. Zack pulled a face, realising nausea was now at play. He awkwardly assisted Genesis to the bathroom, where he unfortunately lost his breakfast.

Angeal cleaned the only available drinking glass, filled it with water, and carefully offered it to his old friend. Genesis was slumped against the door, his head in his hands, breathing unsteady as he tried to fight the urge to vomit again. He took it gratefully.

Zack looked at his mentor desperately, his eyes pleading for an explanation. _There’s still so much I don’t understand about this whole ‘degrading’ thing…_

While Genesis recovered, the white-winged SOLDIER motioned him back to the sofa next to the coffee table.

“Sorry, Zack, forgive the lack of warning…” Angeal whispered, “degradation seems to mess with the brain as much as the body. To the point that just like physical trauma, extreme emotion does, well… that.” He motioned to Genesis, who was halfway to the toilet again.

“Well no wonder he nearly _died _yesterday...if I had known the effect that fight would have on him, I…”

“You wouldn’t be here if you’d known; and I think that might’ve been.._.worse.”_

Zack gave Angeal a confused look. It sounded like he meant something far darker than he wanted to admit.

“You’re not going to elaborate on that, are you?” Zack looked at him with disappointment. 

His mentor gave him a sad, rueful smile. “Not yet.” 

Defeated, Zack turned to see Genesis had resumed his slumped position by the door, his breath ragged and his face gleaming with sweat. With renewed compassion, Zack gingerly knelt down beside Genesis for a better look. Angeal followed suit.

“You still with us?” Zack asked gently. 

“...maybe...” came the haggard response.

“Think you can stand?” Angeal murmured, offering his palm. 

“...don’t know…”

“Let’s get you up, friend. Zack, some help?”

Yet again, student and mentor lifted Genesis up under the arms, carefully leading him toward the bed. His body radiated uncomfortable heat as they lowered him down onto the sheets.

“I’ll grab some ice. Stay with him,” Angeal instructed, hurrying out the door.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Zack watched as Genesis began to shiver despite his raised temperature. His grey-streaked hair was so drenched in sweat it clung to his forehead, and yet, he curled up tighter. _Don’t die on us yet, man._

“Here, put this on his head.” The young SOLDIER felt a reasonably damp handkerchief, wrapped around snow, pressed into his hands. Zack bit back an audible ‘aww’ sound at the patterning. 

“You’ll like this, Genesis. Old-timey dumbapples and flowers.” Zack carefully placed the makeshift compress on his companion’s forehead, waiting patiently until he felt Genesis reach out to steady it personally.

“Thank you…” the redhead breathed in relief, his breaths coming slower now.

Angeal gave them some room and stepped back to pace near the doorway. _He’s really deteriorating_. _How are we going to bring him to Sephiroth if he’s too sick to fly?_

Zack approached his older friend with worry, sensing Angeal’s mind whirring madly.

“Genesis told me to let him ‘sleep it off’ for a while, so…”

“Let’s take a walk. We need some fresh air,” Angeal mumbled, frustration in his voice.

“We’re heading outside for a bit - you good?” Zack called. He nodded when he saw Genesis give them a feeble thumbs up.

Once outside, Zack had to rapidly shield his eyes from the snow glare. The midday sun was surprisingly strong for a tundra.

“Zack, we need to see Sephiroth.”

He stopped dead in his tracks.

“What- w-why?”

“Ah, you missed the memo. Sephiroth, or rather his cells, are apparently the key for curing Genesis. That was the ‘drama’ Genesis mentioned earlier.” Angeal continued pacing in the snow.

“Are you sure Hollander wasn’t _lying _again?” Zack questioned, suspicious. 

“I think he was truthful. He denied Genesis a blood transfusion from Sephiroth in order to ensure he had something to manipulate him with.”

“Ugh!” Zack exclaimed, pulling at his own hair. “That horrible, disgusting f-”

“Yes. I know,” Angeal sighed in exasperation, cutting off Zack’s cursing. “But, I don’t think Genesis will be well enough to make the journey. What’s the likelihood of Lazard convincing Sephiroth to take a mission out here in the next few days?”

“With Sephiroth’s track record?” Zack looked skyward to think. “I don’t know, Angeal…he might refuse. You guys technically died nearby. He’s very sensitive to _anything_ either of you are involved in.”

“I had no idea…” his mentor replied, his face aghast. “We must have really, truly hurt him.”

“Well, _yeah,_” Zack scoffed, “he’s not an emotionless brick wall. I thought you of all people would realise that. He couldn’t stand the thought of fighting either of you. That’s why it was _me_ on Genesis’ trail _all the damn time_.”

"Also, back up a sec,” Zack continued, waving a finger. “Why is _Sephiroth_ the cure?”

_Oh boy. Here we go._ Angeal breathed in tensely. 

“Sephiroth… is like myself - and Genesis. But stronger. More stable.”

His student raised his hands in exasperation. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! You know what? I’m not even _surprised_ anymore!” 

“Unlike Hollander’s Project G, Sephiroth came from Project S, run by Hojo. That’s why both scientists are at loggerheads with each other.”

“God, how are you going to tell _Sephiroth_ that? He won’t buy anything either of you say. And what, can he pop out a wing too!?” Zack waved his arm dramatically. 

“Don’t know,” Angeal replied curtly. He wasn’t in the mood for _that_ psychological battle right now. “But what I do know...is that he might listen to _you.”_ He gave Zack a look he hoped inspired confidence. 

Zack made an unsure face. Coming back from the ‘dead’ to talk to Sephiroth...sounded dangerous, and not just for himself.

“What does Genesis think of all this? He didn’t seem on… great terms with Sephiroth, last I saw.”

“It’s either that or he dies, Zack. I can only hope that his _pride_ doesn’t get the better of him.”

“We should talk to him.” Zack instinctively turned to walk back, but stopped himself. “_Carefully_. After he’s had a snooze.”

“I’d tell you to give the poor man some space, but you’re right. There’s no time for that now.” Angeal rubbed his chin in thought.

Zack ceremoniously flopped down into the snow and sighed. “So, what now? We’ve got another few hours to kill before sleeping beauty wants waking.”

“Want to spar? Like old times?”

Angeal tightened his gloves, offering his student a wry smile.

Zack flashed him a grin, springing to his feet. “Sure. But no flying!”

He went stumbling backwards as he felt a blur of feathery whiteness smack him. 

“Hey-!”

“What? That’s not flying, Zack!” Angeal laughed, dodging his student’s fists. “I’m playing by the rules!”

“Oh, you asked for it!” Zack retaliated, a devilish grin passing over his lips as he readied another assault.

God, he’d_ missed_ this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, will poor Genesis ever not feel like death? I feel so mean… but degradation is a nasty thing, I suppose. :(
> 
> Also, I really want to try Banora White jam now… I’m sure I could just find applesauce and throw some cinnamon in and pretend, but it wouldn’t be the same. :P 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you’re all enjoying the relationship-building – I know I am. This chapter was also my first time ever writing Lazard! I hope I did him justice for my first attempt.
> 
> Until Chapter 4, friends! :D
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a AutumnalBlep
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.


	4. Decisive Secrets

_Tappity tap, tap tap tap... _

_“So that’s why I’m part of a badass rebellion against ShinRa._”

_Tap, tap...tap!_

Zack’s fingers flew over his PHS as he fired off another message to Aerith. After Angeal had worn him down with dirty, feathery sparring tactics, both he and his mentor had called a truce and returned to the cabin. Upon entering, they found Genesis completely stretched out on the bed, limbs hanging off the mattress in blissful sleep. Both men had wisely decided to let sleeping SOLDIERs lie.

In the meantime, Zack busied himself with spilling an entire can’s worth of beans to his girlfriend. It felt _really good_ to get some of the insanity off his chest. 

He decided to add one more line whilst waiting for a reply. 

_“That’s really cool, right?”_

About a minute passed.

_Bzzzzt!_ Zack excitedly flipped his phone open. 

_“If by ‘cool’ you mean stupidly scary, then yes! I’m worried!! :(“_

Zack restrained a sigh, unsure how to respond. He hated making her upset...

Before he could muster a reply, his phone buzzed again.

_“But… I’m also glad. You’re trying to help save a new friend. I can’t be mad at you for that.”_

Zack furtively glanced at the sleeping redhead. _Are we...actually friends yet? I don’t...really know. _He began typing his response. 

_“Well I’m glad you see it that way. 24 hours ago we were trying to kill each other. >:(“_

_“And now you feel bad and you’re trying to make it better. That’s the Zack I know. And I think Genesis really appreciates it. Angeal too. :)”_

A smile tugged at Zack’s lips. He envied Aerith for her cheery optimism, even in the face of him now being a fugitive. He started a reply, but was interrupted by a series of texts in quick succession.

_“Oh- Zack- I have a visitor. Gotta go. Stay safe! Talk later! x”_

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, a flame of jealousy flickering inside him. _What _kind_ of visitor?_

* * *

Aerith swallowed nervously. The Turks were here.

She quickly fumbled her phone into her dress pocket, pretending as if her emerald gaze had merely passed over the suited figure in the church shadows. She had to keep Zack secret. She had to keep him _safe_. Goddess knows what ShinRa might do if they discovered he had deserted_. Crap_. _How long have they been snooping on me? I’ve been giggly and glued to my PHS!_

Normally, Aerith would’ve paid ShinRa’s suits no mind and tended her flowers as usual. They never did anything, anyway. Just watched. 

_Well, except Tseng..._ Aerith mused, slowly rising from where she sat on a dusty pew. _I don’t know why he tries to be friendly. He knows I’ll never trust him._

However, it appeared her suited guardian was not her ‘friend’ of Wutaian descent. Instead, a girl of a similar age to her quietly stepped out from the shadows, her face drawn together in thought.

“Can I help you?” Aerith smiled sweetly, though suspicion danced in her voice.

The female Turk slowly approached, carefully sliding down onto the edge of the pew next to the well-tended flower patch. Had her observer remained where she was, Aerith would have kneeled down to start weeding, but now she stood a small distance away, debating what to do.

“Hi, Aerith,” the young woman said, offering a polite smile. “My name is Cissnei. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I’ve seen quite a few Turks… but no, I don’t recognise you. What do you want?” Aerith nervously stepped from foot to foot. She really didn’t like talking to them. Though she hated to admit it, the Turks...frightened her.

“I’m here to talk to you about a 1st Class SOLDIER. Zack Fair, to be specific.”

Aerith froze. 

_Breathe, Aerith. Stay calm. Breathe, darn it._

Cissnei motioned her closer, almost as if to release a secret. With great reluctance, Aerith edged closer, her discomfort plain.

“Aerith, once I finish talking, I need you to start crying.”

Aerith stifled an incredulous gasp. “W-what?”

Cissnei’s lips quirked in a tiny smile. That reaction was perfect, and she didn’t even _know_ yet. 

“I’m about to tell you Zack has died, even though we both know he hasn’t. I need you to make it look convincing for the next Turk who relieves me.”

The flower girl’s knees nearly collapsed from shocked relief. Here she was, expecting to defend her secret with tooth and nail...and yet, here was a Turk, covering Zack’s adorable butt. 

Cissnei bowed her head in feigned empathy when Aerith decided to purposely let her legs give way. The feeling of release, combined with splinters rudely stabbing into her knees, was enough for Aerith to let the tears flow.

_Damn. She should audition at the Sector 8 theatre, _Cissnei mused, touching a gloved hand to Aerith’s shoulder in ‘comfort’._ At least whoever’s on roster next won’t suspect a thing._

“T-thank you,” Aerith whispered between sobs, doing her best to put on an emotional show. “I was so worried he'd been found out.”

“ShinRa...is a cage,” Cissnei mumbled, pretending to comfort the other girl. “Zack escaped on empathy’s wings, and one day...I might follow.”

“Do you need someone like me to help you out?” Aerith replied, hiding a relieved chuckle under false tears. This felt like offering reverse tit-for-tat.

The young Turk smiled, surprised by the other girl’s generous, if impractical, offer. To appease any prying eyes, Cissnei stood up so her surveillance target could have some ‘emotional space’. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to tell him who you are. The whole truth. He deserves to know.”

Aerith looked up with surprise as Cissnei, now standing, began to walk towards the huge church doors. She offered a shaky nod.

Cissnei paused, turned, and motioned to Aerith. “How about I walk you home while you’re still working those tears? After that you should be able to text in peace.” 

“I’ll say,” Aerith murmured, attempting to look downcast and sniffly as she joined Cissnei. “Mum would have a fit if any Turk tried sneaking into _her_ house.”

“Probably best to keep your chats with Zack within safe walls from now on,” the Turk whispered before they exited the ancient building. “I made sure to be on the roster for your surveillance today, but I won’t be on for a while after this.”

“Oh, of course,” Aerith replied sheepishly. She was constantly under watch already - why wasn’t she more careful to start with? _I _really_ need to be on guard now_.

As the doors creaked open, Cissnei patted Aerith’s arm, raising her voice just a fraction. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Aerith. Let’s get you home. You need time to grieve.”

Aerith played along like a professional, sobbing into her hands as Cissnei guided her back through Sector 5. 

_I hope...the truth doesn’t change how you see me, Zack._

* * *

The puppy-like SOLDIER suppressed an irritated moan.

Angeal glanced at his younger friend whilst whisking copious amounts of egg in the only available frying pan. Zack was staring at his phone with such intent that it appeared he was trying to incinerate it with his mind.

“If you want to burn it, there’s materia for that, Fair…” a sleepy Genesis drawled. He let out a modest yawn as he slowly stretched all five of his limbs. “It works...trust me. I’ve done it before.”

Angeal raised an eyebrow as he carried on with dinner preparations. Well,_ lunch-turned-dinner _preparations... “Smashing it would have sufficed when you ran away, you know.”

“Burning it was _better_,” Genesis mock-pouted before smirking to himself. Gingerly, he raised himself into a sitting position and attempted to smooth his unruly bedhead.

Reluctantly, Zack pocketed his PHS, and shifted on the sofa to face Genesis better. _She’ll text when she’s ready. I’m sure there’s a reason._

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I _don’t_ want to punch you,” Genesis replied, mirth in his eyes.

Zack pulled a face. He knew teasing when he heard it, but it still felt… a bit sharp, coming from Genesis. 

“God, you _must_ be feeling better if that’s your answer,” Angeal muttered, raiding the various herbs and spices Zack had acquired earlier that day.

To Zack’s surprise, it _did_ look as though Genesis had a bit more colour in his cheeks. His eyes glowed brighter, and the shadows had receded…even his cracked skin appeared to be healing more than usual. _Huh. I wonder how long it’s been since he’s had..._restful _sleep._

He was rudely interrupted from his thoughts by a mass of black feathers rubbing past his face. _What is it with these two and hitting people with wings!?_

“Careful,” Genesis teased as walked over to retrieve his beloved copy of LOVELESS. “You’ll catch my disease if you do that.”

“_You’re_ the one who doesn’t have spatial wing awareness, man!” Zack chastised, scooting to the side as Genesis checked the pockets of his red leather coat. Despite being somewhat clean and mostly dry, it still lay discarded on top of the sofa.

“Well, _you_ try adjusting to a _brand new body part,”_ Genesis muttered, his voice laced with muted malice. “I dare you.”

Zack raised his hands in defeat, choosing not to fan the untameable fire that was Genesis Rhapsodos. 

From across the room, Angeal gave him a wry smile, coupled with a look that said, “let him be.” His student glumly sidled toward the tiny kitchen to mope.

“Aerith isn’t replying, Angeal,” Zack whimpered, hanging his head. “Do you think some other guy has swept her off her feet?”

“Zack, that’s unlikely. From what you’ve said, she’s a lovely, trustworthy girl,” Angeal stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, Lazard said she’s under _Turk_ watch. She’s probably being careful...to protect _you.”_

“Yeah, yeah, okay, sure,” the younger man mumbled, turning around and nearly tripping over their resident scientist prisoner. “Ah- damn! Was his leg always out like this?”

“_Shit,_” Angeal mouthed to himself, flicking his wrist to send another sleep spell over Hollander. “Remind me to keep casting that. My apologies.”

“Cheeky bastard,” Zack breathed in between his clenched teeth. As he picked his way back to the sofa, he glanced at the crumpled man, a slight sense of pity sparking in his heart.

“Hey, Angeal. Do we have enough so that we can, you know… at least give _him_ some food?”

“That monster deserves _nothing_,” Genesis hissed to himself, turning his head away in disdain as he leafed through his favourite book.

“Yeah, but… he needs to be coherent to help you,” Zack replied half-heartedly, shrugging his shoulders. 

“As much as I agree with you, Gen,” Angeal called, the frypan hissing to life, “Zack’s right. Can’t have him try to treat you on an empty stomach.”

“You think I’m letting him_ near me?”_ Genesis narrowed his eyes, a scowl contorting his features. “_All that awaits you is a sombre morrow…”_

His childhood friend let out a frustrated sigh, but decided to drop the matter for now. He needed to concentrate on feeding the rebels, after all.

“Say, what _is_ dinner, Angeal?” Zack cocked his head to the side like an expectant canine.

“Omelettes. _Lots_ of them_._” 

“Eggs _again?_”

“I’m a one-pan band, okay? Options are...limited,” Angeal grunted, flipping the first of many pancake-like eggs. “Anyway, they’re loaded with protein and energy. We’re SOLDIERs. We _need_ that.”

“Yes _mum,”_ Zack groaned with a dramatic eye roll. He sank backwards into the sofa, a sour look darkening his normally cheery expression. 

However, this was short-lived.

_Bzzzzzzzt!_ _Bzzzzzzzt!_

“Ah, _damn-! _Why is she_ calling _me? I thought I said it was dangerous!” Zack sprang forward in his seat, panic shooting through him. He flipped his phone to his ear.

“Aerith, _please_ tell me you’re in a safe place.”

_“Don’t worry, it’s okay,”_ came Aerith’s hurried reply. _“I’m at home. A Turk named Cissnei is covering for me.”_

“Oh, thank _god_,” Zack breathed, relief seeping into his limbs. He relaxed into the couch again. “We found out she lied to save us.”

_“I like her,”_ Aerith concurred, seeing Cissnei glance away in shy embarrassment a short distance away. _“You pick good people for friends.”_

The young SOLDIER was slightly taken aback by this statement. He really hoped Aerith was right about that…

_“I’m sorry Zack, I’ve gotta make this quick. I have to tell you something.”_

He felt his stomach drop in light of his earlier suspicions. “What’s that?”

_“I’m...I’m an Ancient. Or a Cetra. Whichever. I...don’t like talking about it, but you need to know. That’s why the Turks are always snooping on me.”_

Genesis’ ears pricked as he paused reading mid-sentence. _Wait, what…!?_

_“I’m really sorry. I should have mentioned it sooner…”_ Aerith’s voice shyly trailed off. _Zack, please...say something._

“That’s...incredible,” Zack breathed, bringing a hand to his mouth out of reflex. “I thought they were long gone!”

_“Well, that’s the thing…it’s just me. I’m the last one.”_

Oh, _Gaia_. Everything was starting to piece together now. _No wonder she’s terrified of ShinRa… _

“So _why_ are the Turks just _watching you?_ From a freaking _distance_? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad they haven’t done anything, but it...doesn’t make any sense.” Zack instinctively shook his head in confusion before leaning to rest it on his free hand.

_“They...they decided force wasn’t going to work,” _Aerith whispered, her voice starting to tremble. _“I...I guess they learned from _past experience._”_

An uncharacteristic streak of venom laced the end of her sentence. Zack blinked in shock. Aerith had _never_ used a tone like that before. Ever.

“Are you okay?” The young SOLDIER spoke softly, his brows drawn together in concern.

_“I’ll...I’ll text you…I can’t face...talking about it…”_

Zack winced. Aerith was obviously trying to hold her emotions in. 

_“I’m glad you’re not with ShinRa anymore, Zack.”_

“...you know what? Me too." He looked from Angeal to Genesis and felt...warmth fluttering inside his heart. Despite everything, he… was attached to them now. 

_“Anyway, I...I need to go. Ah- from the call, that is. I’ll keep texting you.”_

“Stay safe,” Zack whispered, closing his eyes. 

“You too...talk soon.” The line clicked off. Zack let out a long, tired breath.

“As usual, I see ShinRa can’t leave well enough alone,” Genesis spat, deliberately trying to _not_ slam his book down in disgust. “Of course they wouldn’t stop with just _Jenova…_”

The younger SOLDIER pinched the bridge of his nose. “Looks like degradation hasn’t killed your enhanced eavesdropping skills yet.”

“Neither of you were exactly _quiet_,” Genesis retorted, but the irritation was feigned. “I...would like to hear what she meant by ‘past experience’, however. Perhaps...we’re birds of a feather.”

Zack considered the hot-headed man before him. Normally, he’d promptly tell him to ‘mind his own goddamn business’, but he sensed Genesis...was _genuinely_ concerned about Aerith’s past.

“Only if you ask _nicely_,” Zack returned, smiling slightly. 

“I might just do that, Fair.” 

“Who are you, and what have you done with my old friend?”

Genesis looked up to see Angeal looming over him, a plate of spiced omelette descending onto his lap.

“You should nap more often,” Angeal chuckled, inwardly pleased at his friend’s amicable mood. “Sick SOLDIERs get food first. Hope it passes muster.”

The redhead took a long, slow breath, enjoying the aroma. “Goddess. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“I am but a humble king of the kitchen,” his friend replied, taking a mock-bow before retreating to the tiny sink and fireplace that masqueraded as a cookery. “Don’t look so starved, Zack. You’re up next!”

Zack put up a ‘who, me? Hungry? Never!’ expression, pretending to lose all interest in the delightful omelette currently being consumed by someone who _wasn’t_ him.

“So, dating a Cetra,” Angeal mused as he prepared for cooking, round two. “You sure know how to pick a girl, Zack.”

“I didn’t know!” Zack threw his hands up in defense, looking slightly hurt.

His older friend muffled his laughter, waving a hand in apology. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to make light of the situation.”

“...situation…?” His pupil looked genuinely confused.

Angeal’s voice turned...sad. “I only _wish_ I had actual Ancient genes inside me. Then I wouldn’t have any of _this_-” he flexed his wing, “-to worry about.”

Zack’s felt his chest tighten. “You’d rather… they’d have taken samples from a _person_ when they experimented on you? By force? Someone like _Aerith?_”

“Oh, oh hell, _no._” Angeal quickly realised his slip up. He set the pan down and made his way over to the younger man. “I’m so sorry, Zack. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, if given the choice… I’d rather genes from a Cetra than an unknown alien lifeform.”

“No, no, I get it,” Zack mumbled, voice thick with emotion, “but… I think you- both of you- need to start looking past that.”

“I have to say, Fair… not exactly an easy task,” Genesis replied, his voice terse. “Between the wing and my body _literally falling apart_, it’s a bit hard to forget.”

Angeal, however, stayed silent, mulling on his student’s words. 

Thankfully, the buzz of Zack’s PHS was a welcome distraction. For about 10 seconds.

Zack’s eyes poured over the essay-long message Aerith had composed, looking increasingly crestfallen as he read on. 

“Oh my god…” he whispered after several minutes, his voice wavering. “...they...ShinRa… they killed her mother.”

“Minerva, I _knew it_,” Genesis breathed, setting down his empty plate. He sat upright, attention completely on Zack, his manner...delicate. “What else did she say?”

“She… doesn’t remember much, but she escaped from _ShinRa’s bloody Science Department_...when she was _seven years old,_” Zack spat, his dismay rapidly turning into anger. “Her mother - also an Ancient - was...shot.”

“Unbelievable…” Angeal whispered, taking a seat next to Zack in his own shock. 

“Obviously, ‘force’ lost them an Ancient,” Genesis hissed, feathers bristling. “Now they’re trying to win her over...with trust. From the _Turks_. Simply ludicrous.”

“God, I could _kill_ them!” Zack’s voice grew louder as he clenched his fists with enough force to turn his knuckles white. “Being a SOLDIER, working for them … I thought I was _protecting _people, helping the world…”

“Join the club,” his mentor mumbled, leaning back into the sofa, appearing to succumb to the weight of Zack’s shared news about Aerith. “SOLDIER honour is a joke.”

“All this time, I should have been protecting humanity _from_ ShinRa, the bloody bastards,” Zack moaned. “Now I just feel...ugh…”

“...used? Deceived? Foolish?” Genesis quipped; his tone hard to read. He looked at the young SOLDIER with...sadness. “I empathise. Do you long...for revenge?”

“No.” 

Zack took a long, slow breath. He then met the redhead’s gaze, his expression unexpectedly kind. 

“I want to help the people ShinRa has screwed over. Like Angeal, Aerith...and _you, _Genesis.” He considered his thoughts for a moment. “But, if that means butting heads with ShinRa themselves, I won’t hesitate.”

“Compassion is a fool’s errand…”

All three SOLDIERs froze at the sound of Hollander’s drowsy drawl.

“Other people...are _parasites,_” Hollander spat, eyes squinting at Genesis from across the room. “Betrayal is inevitable. Selfish revenge...is the only way to fight against ShinRa.”

“Oh, _shut up_,” Genesis scoffed, flicking his wrist to finally have the pleasure of casting a sleep spell on the horrid man _personally._

“Gen, wait- don’t waste your energy,” Angeal quickly moved to grab his wrist. “He’s awake, so we’d better...take the chance to talk about your treatment.”

His childhood friend shot him a glare, but slowly lowered his hand, the yet-to-be-cast magic leaving a static tingle in the air.

“I’m not saying a _damn thing_ until my demands are met, boys,” Hollander sneered, trying to shake himself out of something akin to sleep paralysis. His mind was willing, but his limbs… still felt unbelievably heavy.

“Firstly, a _bathroom_,” the scientist mumbled, his discomfort plain. “Or all of you are in for a _delightful_ mess.”

“God, _ew_,” Zack grimaced. “You guys okay with that?”

“...do we have a choice?” Angeal muttered darkly, heading back to the makeshift kitchen. 

“Second demand,” Hollander announced, feeling a weakly cast Dispel restoring proper feeling to his limbs. He smirked at Angeal as he unsteadily got to his feet. “Dinner. Chop chop, my boy.” 

Angeal whirled on him, his spare hand forming into a spring-loaded fist whilst his other readied the frying pan. “Do _not_ try your luck. Zack’s mercy is the only thing standing between you and a coma.”

His father gave a sadistic laugh as he groggily made his way to the bathroom. With the door closed, Zack readied himself by the entrance, ears alert to any sounds of escape. 

This, however, was somewhat difficult over the sizzle of omelettes cooking.

After twenty minutes, the party of rogue SOLDIERs nearly jumped out of their collective skins when they heard a loud, caterwauling squawk. 

Privacy concerns aside, Zack practically kicked the door in, and was met with a rather shocking sight. Amusing, certainly, but still unsettling. Hollander was cowering against the wall, clutching an injured hand, while a fierce and certifiably _pissed off _Cobalt had his head thrust through the open window, growling at the scientist. The griffon, after catching sight of his black-haired friend, gave a friendly chirp in greeting.

“Cobalt, you legend,” Zack grinned, stepping toward the bathroom window to ruffle Cobalt’s head feathers. The bird-lion nuzzled into his hand, stringing together chirps to create something akin to purring. 

“Train your _beast_, Angeal!” Hollander bellowed, attempting to stand. He froze in fear when a low growl rose in Cobalt’s throat.

“He _is_ trained! He has a bastard detector!” Angeal called from the fireplace, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Now Hollander, that’s_ no way_ to talk to such a noble creature,” Zack tutted, towering over the crouched scientist. “Besides, you tried to _escape_. What did you expect, huh? _Huh_?” He loomed closer to Hollander, hands on his hips. 

“I simply think he wanted to freeze to death, Fair.”

Genesis had appeared at the doorway, admiring the scene with a smirk. He skillfully released a partial sleep spell, rendering Hollander’s legs useless. “There. No more scurrying for you, mister.”

“Damn you,” Hollander hissed, legs caving under his weight. 

“Stop whining, man,” Zack groaned, slowly dragging the heavyset scientist to the sofa. “You brought this on yourself. Shut up and eat your bloody eggs so we can help Genesis.”

After depositing the lame scientist on the couch, Zack claimed the stool. He whipped out his phone and began texting a reply to Aerith so as not to leave her hanging. 

Realising Zack’s situation, Genesis somehow managed to refrain from teasing him, and instead made his way over to Angeal. He felt a plate, washed since his own use of it, pushed into his hands, a slop of omelette sliding around precariously.

“Care to do the honours, friend?” Angeal whispered tersely. “If I go over there, I’ll probably knock his lights out.”

“_My friend, the fates are cruel,_” Genesis remarked, his voice sour. Despite feeling extremely bitter about having to _feed_ the man who ruined his life, he did as Angeal requested. He had to resist throwing the plate at Hollander’s head, and instead settled on roughly dropping it into the man’s paralysed lap. He then offered a mocking bow. “Dinner is _served.”_

“A fitting job for the likes of you,” Hollander replied. He smirked at the low growl Genesis offered in return.

“I can’t believe you _trusted_ him,” Zack murmured, eyeing the redhead as he returned to sit on the mattress.

“Neither can I.” The degrading SOLDIER lowered his gaze, dull hair obscuring his face.

_What the…?_ Zack blinked in confusion, dumbfounded. Genesis, admitting fault? Having _regrets_? He was expecting a biting reply, not...honesty.

“Such irony,” Hollander mused between bites. “Your life is once again in my hands, and your salvation comes from a rival specimen.”

“Get over yourself!” Zack interjected, giving the pudgy scientist a warning shove. “Sephiroth is just as much a _person_ as Angeal and Genesis are.”

“Oh, our dear degrading monster doubts that, I’m sure.” 

Zack looked incredulously from Hollander to Genesis. He was disappointed to see the redhead was looking away, his mouth drawn in a thin line of aggression. Toward Hollander or Sephiroth however, the young SOLDIER couldn’t tell.

“That nonsense aside, Hollander, it doesn’t change the plan.” 

Angeal made his way over to the trio, folding his arms and adopting a stern expression. 

“Oh, so there’s a _plan_ now?” Hollander scoffed, consuming the last of the omelette.

“Yes,” Angeal confirmed. He cast a worried look at Genesis, who met his gaze with grim uncertainty. Zack followed suit as he looked at his mentor. 

“We’re bringing Sephiroth here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m so sorry for the delayed chapter! I got very distracted with story planning… but hopefully, this tale will be better for it in the end. A huge thanks to those who left comments and feedback. :D
> 
> I also thoroughly enjoyed writing the scene with Cobalt. I feel so damn attached to this griffon now, haha. He’s turning into the renegade mascot…
> 
> Anyway, I have the next 2-3 chapters well planned, so I’ll be diving into Chapter 5 very soon, where character arcs really start ‘taking off’. :D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, everyone! <3
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a AutumnalBlep


	5. Bitter Regrets

“Angeal, are you_ insane?”_

Genesis stared at his old friend, his eyes burning with emotion. The suggestion he posed was completely, utterly ridiculous.

When initially faced with the reality that the great _General Sephiroth_ was the answer to his degradation, Genesis felt...hysterically hopeless. He knew such news was just another way of delivering a death sentence. Earlier that day, a good punch to Hollander’s detestable face only served as a distraction for his frustrations.

Sephiroth coming to them, _discovering they were alive_, was one thing.

Grovelling before him, begging for forgiveness in the hopes of not being cut down then and there? Another pride-crushing monstrosity entirely. Why should _he_ get the glory of healing this dreadful disease? He was _tired_ of Sephiroth always one-upping him all the _damn time_.

“If trying our last resort to make you better is considered the definition of ‘insanity',” Angeal replied, voice level, “then yes.”

“Do you have any _idea_ how dangerous that suggestion _even is?_” By now, Genesis had risen to challenge Angeal directly. “All of us will be at Sephiroth’s mercy. He’s ShinRa’s _greatest asset._ It’s a suicide mission!”

Zack, meanwhile, had scooted his stool some distance away. Otherwise, a tense, outstretched collection of feathers would have bloody _smacked_ him again._ Why can’t he just...gesture with his hands like a normal person, the drama queen?_

Genesis wasn’t backing down. His voice started to crack as hysteria creeped in. “You think_ I_ want his help? So he gets to _gloat_ that he saved me?” 

Angeal, a keen observer, mentally cursed. He knew the signs. He could see his friend’s emotional state, ravaged by degradation, beginning to crack already. He had to calm him down, or he’d be bed-ridden for hours again like earlier in the day.

Hollander watched the spectacle of Genesis’ mind fracturing with sadistic interest. He counted himself lucky Zack interrupted the SOLDIER's bout of rage back in Modeoheim. Being able to observe the degradation rip his experiment’s body and mind apart was...fascinating, scientifically speaking.

“Hell, he’d probably just _laugh_ at my situation now! He’d mock me! He’s ShinRa’s damned _hero_, after all; he’d probably _kill me_ for the praise!”

By now, Genesis was on the verge of screaming, his eyes aflame with mako. 

Angeal, steeling himself with resolve, quickly closed the distance between himself and his childhood friend. 

Genesis froze mid-sentence as he felt himself drawn into a hug.

Zack’s mouth dropped open in shock. God, if _that_ was all it took to stop Genesis from yelling himself into a degradation seizure…

To Angeal’s relief, this unexpected action had the desired effect. His friend had gone completely silent in surprise. He took this opportunity to weave an extremely gentle sleep spell behind Genesis’ shoulders, and not a second after, felt his friend’s weight starting to bear on him. 

“Calm yourself, Gen,” Angeal whispered, carefully easing him into a slumped sitting position. “You’re not thinking rationally.”

“But ‘Geal…” Genesis mumbled incoherently, “Seph doesn’t like me…”

“He misses you and I terribly...trust me,” the white-winged SOLDIER replied, offering his friend a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Let’s talk once you’ve relaxed.”

“Okay…” the redhead said slowly, fighting to stay upright under the magic’s hypnotic pull towards the bed. 

Hollander let out a huff, disappointed with the lack of further degradation developments. 

“If I’m forced to work on _that thing_,” he spat callously, knowing Genesis wouldn’t remember it, “I’m going to need equipment. If you’re lucky, the rats of ShinRa won’t have collected anything from Modeoheim yet.”

“If you disrespect Genesis _one more time_, Hollander, I swear…” Angeal seethed, his eyes flickering with anger, “the Buster sword _will_ get rust on it. Killing you with it would be an _honour_ at this point.”

“An empty threat,” the scientist replied, eyeing his son with distaste. 

Angeal ignored him and cut to the chase. “And if there’s nothing left to collect in Modeoheim?” 

“That’s none of your concern, boy,” Hollander smirked. “You’re on a need-to-know basis.”

“And you’re on a need-to-_sleep_ basis, buddy.”

To Angeal’s surprise, Zack himself released a moderately powerful sleep spell, leaving Hollander in a crumpled heap.

“Where’d you pick that up, Zack?” His mentor raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on his face.

Zack sheepishly nodded his head at a still very-groggy Genesis. “Couldn’t resist. I’ve been itching to send that bastard to sleep myself for _ages_. You two have all the fun.”

“Give that back to Gen, you rascal,” Angeal chuckled. His student carefully slipped the materia back into the redhead’s magic-loaded wrist accessory.

“Don’t play with that, pup…” Genesis slurred, making a comically feeble attempt to shoo Zack’s hands away as if he actually _were_ a curious canine.

As amusing as his friend was in this state, Angeal knew better than to keep him sedated. In moments, the sleep magic was dispelled.

Genesis brought a hand to his head, groaning. “What in Minerva’s name happened…?”

“Your degradation-” Angeal started, grunting as he dragged Hollander back to his corner, “-got the better of you again, I’m afraid. I had to sedate you.”

“Are either of you hurt?”

“No, Genesis, we’re okay. Thanks for asking.” Zack offered the sleepy SOLDIER a warm smile. _Look at him, worried about other people…_

“What do you remember?” Angeal returned to the sofa, now scientist-free.

“Something...about Sephiroth…? I’m not sure.”

His friend took a deep breath. “We’d...we’d like to try and bring him here.”

Genesis tensed up again, a scowl forming on his face. “What, _Sephiroth?”_

“I hate to say it, Gen, but...he’s your only chance.” Angeal leaned forward in his seat, a kind-yet-serious look in his eyes. “I understand how difficult th-”

“No, Angeal. You don’t,” Genesis interrupted, his voice laced with suppressed aggression. “Firstly, I’d rather _die from degradation_ that let him see me like _this.” _He flicked a hand through his faded hair for emphasis. 

“_Seriously,_ Genesis? _Really?_” Zack looked at the redhead with disbelief. _Vanity? In this situation? Come on, man._

Genesis shot him an angry look. “Let me finish, _puppy._”

The young SOLDIER raised his hands in defeat, but he still looked a bit disgusted. 

“Secondly, it’s suicidal. Not just for me. But for all of you. If ShinRa discovers us, we’re all as good as _actually_ dead,” the degrading SOLDIER continued. “Including Lazard, _and_ the Turk who helped us.”

Genesis then swept his hands grandly, as if making an announcement. “_Sephiroth, the great hero, eliminates the last remnants of an anti-ShinRa group._ I can already see the corporate headline. You think that he’d pass up such a _glorious_ opportunity?”

“But...Sephiroth’s not _like_ that,” Zack murmured, remembering his budding friendship with the General. “He rejected _so many missions_ involving you two. That’s why _I _kicked your ass. Not him.”

The redhead gave him a dark look, pain briefly flitting across his features. “We weren’t worth his _precious time._”

“No, you moron!” Zack yelled, waving his arms. “He was so torn up he couldn’t _bear_ facing you! He was hurt!”

“...Zack’s right, Gen,” Angeal added, touching a hand to his friend’s scarred arms. “You’ve always been quite… adept at misunderstanding Sephiroth.”

Genesis gave an indignant huff. “Fine. _Enlighten me._”

“Firstly, _don’t _forget the blood transfusion offer,” his friend began. “When you first defected and the company notifications reached us, Sephiroth pulled me into his office almost immediately. I’d never seen him look so… shocked. He asked me, as a long-time friend of yours, if I had any ideas for the disappearance. At that point I was obviously clueless, but Sephiroth’s distress was plain. He even asked if _he himself_ had somehow caused it.”

Genesis was silent, but heedlessly waved his hand for Angeal to keep talking. 

Zack, meanwhile, listened with bated breath; he _loved_ learning about Sephiroth’s reclusive emotions. Unfortunately, it was the kind of gossip that had spread most easily amongst the SOLDIER floor, because it contrasted so much with how everyone _presumed _Sephiroth behaved. 

“And when your shoulder was injured, he was making trips to the medical bay almost _every hour_ to try and check on you. Believe me; he dragged me down there every time,” Angeal chuckled. “He felt _awful_ about what happened.”

“Sephiroth also told me a few things,” Zack interjected. Angeal give him a questioning look. _“Relevant_ things.”

“Go on, Fair.” An unreadable look was on Genesis’ tired face.

“On one mission, he was telling me that he missed his seasonal theatre visits… the latest production of LOVELESS had just launched, but he said he wouldn’t go. Not without you - or Angeal. I think he...liked how happy and passionate it made you.”

By now, the degrading SOLDIER was looking... wistful. 

Zack looked at him, then resolutely continued. “Another time, I caught him in his office, leafing through a photo album - _yes_, an Angeal-made photo album - chuckling to himself. He caught me staring but asked me to come in. He showed me one of the pictures.”

“Oh no...which one?” Angeal groaned into his hands.

“It was just him and Genesis pulling stupid faces. It must’ve been _ages ago_ \- Genesis was in a 2nd Class uniform.”

“Ah, yes...Gen, you were trying to teach Sephiroth the art of taking a selfie. I took the photos so you could practice making faces without worrying about composing a shot. Remember that?”

By now, Genesis was staring at the floor, hair hiding his face. “Yes. I do.” 

Angeal leaned down, trying to make eye contact with him. “Sephiroth _loved_ you - and me - like brothers. And then, he lost us…”

“...and I had to pick up the pieces,” Zack mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “He’s a bit reclusive and aloof, but he _really_ values his close friends.”

“Have I...really been so blind?” Genesis whispered, his voice turning hollow. “...all this time…?”

Zack quietly breathed in through his teeth, not wanting to further upset the man by agreeing with the truth. He looked helplessly at Angeal.

“Perhaps,” his childhood friend concurred simply. “Are you...willing to give our old friend a chance?”

Genesis found he couldn’t reply. His throat constricted, his eyes burned...and guilt stabbed his heart. He audibly winced, trying to hide his face further as hot tears began to escape down his cheeks.

“But...how can I…?” he quietly sobbed, his chest heaving, “... when it would...put you all at risk?”

Angeal let out a sigh, pulling Genesis into a hug. “Gen, you’re my _brother._ I love you. I _won’t_ watch you die.” 

Zack tried to sidle into the wing sandwich to show his support. “ShinRa _really_ screwed you over, man. I’m _going _to help you, like it or not.”

“But, I don’t...I don’t deserve any of this,” Genesis lamented, his weak frame trembling. 

“That’s not the point of friendship,” Angeal replied, patting his comrade’s back. “We do this out of love, not as an obligation. Also, take this.” He pushed a spare old-fashioned handkerchief into his friend’s quivering hand. 

“Another Banora pattern,” Genesis sniffled to himself before dabbing his eyes. 

“Mum kept buying them from the Mideel craft fairs,” his friend chuckled. “Keep it.”

Meanwhile, Zack freed himself from the winged cocoon, dread growing as he realised another potential roadblock. 

“I don’t want to mention it, but...there’s another problem, guys.”

Angeal and Genesis turned to look at Zack. Both appeared to be quite confused.

“One of us...has to tell Sephiroth where he came from. Otherwise convincing him that he can somehow ‘magically cure’ Genesis will be...kinda hard.” Zack frowned in thought. 

“Hell, definitely _not me_,” Genesis concurred, shaking his head. “He won’t believe a word I say. But...I can advise how to _not_ tell him. From my own experience, obviously.” He roughly gestured at Hollander.

“Zack, I’m afraid it probably has to be you.” Angeal gave his younger friend a worried look. "Sephiroth...I hate to say, will definitely _not_ listen to either myself or Genesis. We’ve destroyed his trust.”

“Shit, guys...I hardly know anything about Project G _or_ S. You’ve gotta get me up to speed, or we’re all doomed.” Zack let out a groan.

“Food first, scientific exposition later,” Angeal decided, his stomach now too hungry to ignore.

“Oh yes, food, _please_,” Zack practically begged, hopping up to follow his mentor to the ‘kitchen’. 

Genesis, feeling nostalgic, silently watched as the two SOLDIERs busied themselves with creating another batch of omelettes. He could remember so many nights like this. Angeal would’ve been hovering over Sephiroth in the kitchen, doting on him while he tested out his newly learned culinary skills. 

Having been raised in such a clinical environment, Sephiroth had never been shown the art of cooking - all his food was strictly governed by Hojo and prepared by a nutritionist chef. Angeal was _horrified _when he learned this, and made it his mission to teach his friend the culinary arts. _“Besides,” _Angeal had insisted, _“it’s a critical life skill. You’ll retire one day, and then what would you do?”_

_“I’d move in,” _Sephiroth had replied, his voice completely serious. Then Angeal had jabbed him in the side with an elbow and they both had a chuckle. 

_Angeal was right,_ Genesis mused to himself. _Sephiroth _was_ looking thin last I saw him. He must miss the cooking classes...and...us. _

“Minerva, I’ve..._really_ screwed up…” the degrading SOLDIER whispered, his heart tightening with regret. Oh, how the degradation and his own selfish ambition had overtaken him... 

“Sephiroth, I’m _sorry.”_

* * *

“So, Zack. Think you can remember all of that?”

The young SOLDIER looked between his mentor, who had spoken, and Genesis, who looked somewhat haunted after experiencing his own origin story again. 

“Don’t worry. It’s so heavy and gut-wrenchingly horrible that I _won’t _forget,” Zack shivered. “Honestly? Leaving ShinRa? Very sensible move. Good job you two. Well done. Aced it…” he trailed off, burying his face into an old sofa cushion.

“Well, you’re taking it as well as one would expect,” Angeal encouraged. “I for one have reached my lifetime quota for reliving the Jenova Project.”

“Likewise,” Genesis muttered, acting as if he had a terrible taste in his mouth. “But, for the sake of Sephiroth, I will endure it one _last_ time.”

Zack let out a muffled sound of approval. Groggily, he rolled into his back. “Anyone need the bathroom? I think I need to have a bath after hearing all that.”

“All yours,” his mentor replied. “Gen?”

The redhead SOLDIER was silent, but tossed Zack a mastered Fire materia. “Make it hot like Ifrit’s hellfire. That will help.”

“_Sweet_,” Zack grinned, starting to shed his belt as he made his way to the bathroom. “Thanks, man.”

Genesis gave a nod, smiling slightly as Zack disappeared.

Once he heard the water gush on, mixed with Zack’s loud humming, he lowered his head in sadness. “I wish… I had taken it that well, Angeal.”

“We can’t all be Zack. But, you _can_ help Sephiroth take it _better._” Angeal gave his old friend a soft look. “And believe me, that counts.”

Genesis gave a half-hearted nod, his head starting to spin from the stress of approaching events.

“I’ll get this call to Lazard over with, and then we can sleep for the night, okay?” Angeal murmured, seeing his friend fading. He was amazed he had held up so well all afternoon, but Genesis was clearly running out of steam now.

“That...would be appreciated, old friend,” Genesis sighed, falling sideways onto the bed. He closed his eyes and brought his wing close for warmth.

In moments, Angeal was holding Hollander’s PHS to his ear, waiting for the Director answer.

_“Angeal, I presume?”_

“Bingo,” the white-winged SOLDIER chuckled, “Hollander is taking a _long_ sojourn through dreamland. This phone is effectively mine now.”

_“I’ll update the contact to a different code name, shall I?”_ Lazard replied, raising an unseen eyebrow in mirth. 

“Be my guest, if it helps. Also, we have a plan - the beginnings of one, at least.”

_“Please, enlighten me.”_

“Our first priority is curing Genesis. We’ve learned that Sephiroth is the key. Is there any way we can send him on a mission our way without raising suspicion?”

_“That’s a tall order, Angeal,” _Lazard replied thoughtfully._ “Sephiroth is still...highly suspicious. And distant.”_

Angeal paused for a few moments in thought. _What could possibly work…? Monster extermination? A PR event…?_

And then it hit him. 

“Tell him you’ve received reports of a dangerous, aggressive snow griffon terrorising the residents of Icicle Inn. Having Sephiroth make an appearance will surely boost the public’s confidence in ShinRa.”

_“Perhaps…”_ Lazard murmured, leaning intently onto his home office desk._ “It’s such a low class, inane mission, but… I could cover it with the pretense of getting him out of his office for some headspace. SOLDIERs know me for trying to steward their mental health, after all. But there’s a problem.”_

“What sort of problem?”

_“Where are you going to get a mutated snow griffon? Those creatures are extremely headstrong and wild.”_

“I have a few feathered friends with my genes.”

_“Ah, your copies. Of course. Convenient - and you can control them?”_

“Well, mostly… one griffon is learning his independence a bit, but he’s very loyal.” Angeal heard Cobalt’s faint squawk somewhere in his head, thanks to their connection. 

_“Don’t get too attached, Angeal...Sephiroth is_ direct and methodical_. You know that.”_

“I’m sure Zack won’t let a feather leave that griffon’s head, Lazard. It’ll be the perfect opportunity to shock Sephiroth into confusion, giving us enough time to talk with him.”

_“Well, as you know him better, I’ll trust your judgement.” _

“Thank you. How soon can you arrange the mission?”

_“The day after tomorrow. I’ll send Sephiroth out on the first helicopter that morning.”_

“Perfect. Oh- and one more thing. Zack insisted you assign a certain cadet to the mission, too.” Angeal breathed a sigh of relief. He almost forgot. Zack would’ve _killed him_.

_“Doesn’t that risk blowing our cover, Angeal?”_ Lazard’s voice was...a bit stressed now.

“Zack assures me the cadet is trustworthy...they were friends prior to him joining us.” 

_“...which one?”_ Lazard gave a defeated sign, readying himself to take note.

“Cloud Strife. He recently came back from Modeoheim. He was on _that_ mission with Zack, so he’ll be familiar with the terrain.”

_“Oh, the blonde one with messy hair? I remember him looking extremely crestfallen at the mission debriefing. No doubt about the ‘death’ of his friend.”_

“That’s him. Let’s hope he doesn’t remember me knocking his lights out…” Angeal trailed off, feeling quite regretful.

_“Consider it done, then,” _Lazard concurred, nodding. “_I wonder how this entire fiasco will play out… if Sephiroth joins our cause, it would be a tremendous help. But if he retaliates… it’s all over.”_

“It’s a risk we’ve decided to take,” Angeal said decisively, glancing at Genesis with a warm smile.

_“May the Planet show her favour to us… I can only hope opposition to ShinRa is seen as a good thing for her.”_

“I didn’t know you were so spiritual, Lazard!” Angeal teased, laughing lightly. “You sound like Genesis.”

_“...how is he?”_

“His condition hasn’t worsened since yesterday, so that’s something. We’ve had a few flare-ups, but I think Zack’s optimism might be...helping him. Somehow.”

_“I’ve always had a feeling about that kid,_” Lazard smiled a little._ “Perhaps his unrealistic dreams are just what we need.”_

“Perhaps they are, Lazard, perhaps they are…” Angeal trailed off, hearing Zack’s off-key singing muffled by the bathroom door.

_“We should end the call shortly. Can’t have too many strange logs, even though I’ve unbelievably tweaked the security on this phone.”_

“Wait, Director...”

_“Who was that? I thought I said ‘Director’ wasn’t necessary.”_

Genesis desperately motioned for the phone after having called out. Angeal, though confused, handed it to him.

“It’s Genesis,” the redhead mumbled, his voice filled with exhaustion...and something else. Sadness?

_“What can I do for you, Commander?”_

“Okay, _fine_. Don't call me Commander, and I won’t call you Director...” Genesis retorted. “Like you, I find that title isn’t...necessary.”

_“My apologies. Go on.”_

“Are you able to email something to this or Fair’s phone?”

_“Well, yes. Of course. What do you need?”_

“I’d like a list of the names of all the SOLDIERs who defected with me. The ones who...became my copies.”

Lazard was taken aback by this request._ “What for?”_

Genesis sucked a breath through his teeth, steeling himself. “I want to...remember them. By name. I stole their lives. They deserve to live on.._.somehow.”_

_Ah, I see. Atonement,_ Lazard thought slowly, surprised at Genesis’ shift in attitude.

_“That won’t be difficult. I’ll have it to you tomorrow.”_

“Thank you,” the redhead breathed, trying to suppress his unusually untamable emotions again. “I’ll leave you in peace now.” He handed the phone back to Angeal.

“Alright, have a quiet night, Lazard. We’ll be in touch post Sephiroth-visit. Stay safe.”

_“The same to you, Angeal, Genesis. I’ll contact you should anything change. Be well.”_

Angeal slipped the now closed phone into his pocket, processing what Genesis had requested. He looked over at him, and saw that his old friend had squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to control his emotions. 

“Are you okay?”

The question hung in painful silence.

Unusually, Angeal could clearly_ see_ an emotional war raging behind his friend’s troubled expressions. He recognised a man near tearful overload when he saw one, but he never expected_ Genesis_ of all people to struggle like that. Hell, he’d already cried once that day already... 

“I’ll give you some privacy, Gen,” Angeal murmured, rising to his feet. “Yell if you need me for anything.”

He felt a cool, slightly clammy hand grab his wrist.

“No...stay. _Please_.” 

Suitably persuaded, the white-winged SOLDIER sat back on the stool. This was _not_ typical Genesis behavior.

“Do you...want to talk?” Angeal whispered, feeling unreasonably out of his depth.

Genesis, still fighting to stay composed, shook his head. A light sheen of sweat glinted off his forehead as he turned to half-bury his face in the dusty pillow.

“Fever again? Hang tight, I’ll get you some water.”

Angeal returned moments later, setting the glass down on the floor beside the bed. He heard a muffled ‘thank you’ from Genesis. 

“You know, Gen,” he started, surprised at what he was suggesting to his normally stubborn-like-a-chocobo friend. “If you need to just..._cry_, that’s okay.”

Unsurprisingly, Genesis said nothing, but Angeal heard a breath catch in his friend’s throat.

“That’s what I used to tell the younger SOLDIERs, anyway… from those who were grieving loss to those who couldn’t always handle the mako treatments.”

“I think...it’s a sign,” Angeal carefully considered his words, then added slowly, “..of humanity.” 

At that moment, the emotional dam burst. 

Angeal’s face creased in pity as he saw Genesis’ pale shoulders - and wing - begin to shake with quiet, hidden sobs. Deciding that his words were enough, he sat in solace with his old friend, gently rubbing a hand on his back in comfort. Well, back _and_ wing - his feathers were too huge to avoid.

An old saying, perhaps something his real father - the one who raised him - had said, rippled to the surface in Angeal’s mind. It seemed...apt for his and Genesis’ shared situation.

_Men cry not for themselves…_

_...but for their comrades._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Help. I’ve turned Genesis into an emotional, teary mess. I feel so freaking mean guys!! Bloody writer’s guilt… OTL
> 
> That said, I really enjoyed getting to write memories of our favourite SOLDIER trio. Honestly, I’d kill for a slice-of-life animated series about them and their daily shenanigans at ShinRa… hell, even just a novella or something. A girl can dream, I suppose.
> 
> I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, too. It’s about time Genesis figured out what a jerk he’s been…
> 
> Until Chapter 6, friends! Thanks for reading! :D 
> 
> ~ Ma, a.k.a. AutumnalBlep
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.


	6. Taking Flight

“Toast’s up, sleepyhead.”

A groan, muffled by a pillow, greeted him in response. 

Zack stifled a chuckle as he gently set a plate, laden with jam-slathered toast, on the coffee table beside the bed. “Grab it while it’s hot, birdman.”

Genesis growled slightly in response, but the irritated tone was lost amongst the bedding. He rolled onto his side and began to lazily rub the sleep out of his eyes, his nose pricking at the delightful scent of cinnamon and apples wafting toward him. 

“You...made this?”

Zack, who had started to busy himself with frypan clean-up, looked up at him with a smile. “Yep!”

Genesis slowly lifted himself upright, and gratefully claimed a slice of toast. “...thank you.”

“Well, it’s about time you woke up, anyway,” Zack chuckled, settling the now clean frypan down on the bench. “Though, you were pretty shattered last night…”

The degrading SOLDIER kept silent, trying to distract himself with breakfast. He was keen to _avoid_ travelling that guilty road for a little while…

“Me and Angeal decided to let you snooze it off,” the young SOLDIER continued, giving Genesis a wry smile, “but it’s like, 10:30 AM. Sick SOLDIERs gotta eat.”

“Where is he?” 

“Angeal? He left about half an hour ago. Off to try and raid Modeoheim for supplies or something.” Zack replied. He then looked down sadly. “And he took Cobalt....”

“How tragic; the puppy has lost his playmate,” Genesis smirked, claiming his second slice. 

“Yeah. Now I’m stuck with _you,_” Zack retorted jokingly, mock-gagging. 

Despite the sarcasm, Genesis still found the statement… depressing. He wouldn’t be surprised if Zack somewhat _meant_ what he said.

“Fear not - I’ll keep out of your hair,” the redhead replied, his tone turning a shade darker. 

A silence that might be classed as awkward then clouded the room, broken only by the occasional toast crunch.

Zack, with almost nothing to do bar _literally _twiddling his thumbs, plopped onto the sofa and pulled out his phone to check for messages. 

“Well, you’ve got your girlfriend, so you’re not _really_ stuck,” Genesis teased, brushing his lap of crumbs as he stood up. “If you actually need _me,_ I’ll be in the bathroom.”

The young SOLDIER childishly stuck his tongue out at the other man as he padded to the restroom and quietly clicked the door shut. His phone then interrupted with a familiar _bzzzzzt._

_“Sorry I’m not replying that fast, Zack… I don’t feel great this morning.”_

_“No no no, it’s okay!!”_ Zack’s fingers flew over the keys as he raced to reassure Aerith. _“It’s a slow morning for me anyway. Just me and Genesis here. Angeal’s gone out. What’s wrong?”_

“_The Planet is giving me a headache...a really bad one. I’m still stuck in bed.”_

Zack paused, re-reading the message with concerned confusion. Having a connection to the Planet like that sounded...weird. And_ really _annoying.

_“That’s so rude! Tell the Planet to bugger off.”_

From her bed-sheet cocoon, Aerith couldn’t help but openly laugh. Her boyfriend was such a goofball…

_“Pfft. I wish I could sometimes,” _she typed, wincing as another throb pulsated through her skull. _“I think she’s in pain. The Planet, I mean.”_

_“From what?”_

_“I can’t tell… I feel like I’m being...drained somehow. And bopped on the head, again and again. I don’t know what it means.”_

Zack’s brows creased in worry. _“How often does this happen?”_

_“Oh, now and then. It’s been months since the last time. Mum’s still worried though.”_

_“I hope I get to meet her one day ;)”_

Aerith suppressed a gasp, redness creeping across her cheeks. All she could muster was a blushing emoji in response.

_“You’re adorable, Aerith. But I’m serious though. Elmyra sounds like an incredible person.”_ Zack smiled as he typed. He was thankful someone so kind had rescued Aerith all those years ago. 

_“She is. I love her, even when worries way too much. :P” _

A few minutes passed as the conversation dwindled. Zack, feeling bored, decided to have a whinge.

_“God, it feels like Genesis has been in the bathroom for ages. What’s he _doing_ in there?”_

_“Maybe he’s preening.”_

_“What??”_ Zack’s eyes went wide with amusement at the suggestion.

_“He’s got a wing, right?”_

_“Well, yeah…but he kind of hates it.”_

_“Why does he hate it? :(“_

_“It’s...stupidly complicated. I don’t get it either.”_ Zack sighed into his hand, mystified by Genesis’ warped attitudes.

_“You should ask him about it.”_

_“Maybe…” _

Zack’s head snapped up as the bathroom door swung open. To his shock, he saw the winged SOLDIER running a hand down the last of his long primary feathers as he emerged.

_“Oh my god you were right he was actually preening!!”_

Aerith smiled smugly to herself. _“Told you.”_

_“Okay, gotta go - rest up well!”_

_“Bye, cute boy x.”_

Zack shook his head in embarrassment, trying to look deeply occupied by his phone as Genesis made his way back to the bed. However, his curiosity was biting at him now.

“You were in there for ages, man,” Zack teased, smirking. “What _were_ you doing?”

Genesis turned to look at him pointedly, debating his response inside his head. In the end, he decided to be honest.

“Wing maintenance.”

“That sounds technical,” the young SOLDIER returned, cocking his head to the side in mock confusion. “What does ‘wing maintenance’ involve, exactly?”

“Goddess, Fair. I was just..._preening_. If I don’t routinely check my feathers and cover them in powder down, they...degrade faster. It also keeps away..._parasites_.” Genesis tried to suppress a shudder.

“Wow. You...actually care about your wing?” Zack looked at him with a genuinely curious expression. 

Genesis looked at his extra limb with disdainful disgust. “Only because I have_ no other choice._”

“I don’t get it…” Zack trailed off, confusion all over his young face. He sat forward on the couch and gave Genesis a serious look. “Be straight with me, man. Why do you hate your wing?”

The redhead looked taken aback, even as a scowl began twisting his face.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Too personal.” Panic-stricken, Zack made a desperate attempt to back-track. Without Angeal here to cover his ass, he was _definitely_ going to unintentionally piss Genesis off... 

“Fair, the answer is obvious,” Genesis seethed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “It’s _monstrous.”_

Zack, realising he seemingly had permission to continue, cut straight to the point. _“Why?”_

“_Humans_ don’t have wings,” Genesis hissed, tucking his feathers in as tightly as he could - almost as if to hide them._ “_I have the genes of an _eldritch alien monstrosity_ inside me, my _body is falling apart_, and my _godforsaken wing_ is just a _hellish reminder_ of that.”

The young SOLDIER took a deep breath, trying to gather his racing thoughts under the weight of his companion’s heavy stare. He was about to take a rather stupid risk and could only _hope_ it would pay off.

“Genesis, _your actions_ have made you a monster,” Zack whispered, looking away. He hated driving the nail in, but it had to be said. “Wings have nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, what do_ you_ know?” The redhead spat with bitterness, turning himself away. He was _made_ a monster. His actions merely stemmed from that wretched truth...

“That it doesn’t matter _how_ you were born!” Zack, now emboldened, raised his voice in determination. “You only turned into a monster when you accepted the lie that being genetically messed up made you one!”

“So? The world still _thinks_ I am one because of how I _look!_” In moments, Genesis’ black wing, unfurled at full length, shadowed the entire room.

“I don’t give a _shit_ what the world thinks, man!” Zack yelled, waving his arms. “Your wing is bloody amazing!”

Genesis was stunned into silence. He wasn’t expecting the puppy to say _that_.

Exasperated, Zack started listing things off on his hands. “You can freaking _fly_, it looks badass as hell, it keeps you warm, you can _smack_ people with it…honestly, I envy you.”

The black-winged SOLDIER reluctantly looked at his own feathers again, trying to at least make sense of the younger man’s points. “You...envy me?”

“Yes! Hell, if I had wings, you couldn’t keep me out of the damn sky,” Zack muttered, a flame of longing in his heart. “Don’t you see? You’re less of a monster now than you were two days ago. The wing _doesn’t change that..._if nothing else, learn to like it so you can piss off Hollander.”

Genesis couldn’t make sense of his own emotions. Why in Minerva’s name were people...jealous of him? Having a wing - and only one at that - when coupled with degradation, seemed like the worst thing he’d ever experienced. It had merely served as a gross reminder he was less than human. Just a monster with genes that were falling apart.

Could he really see it as a blessing born from a horrible curse? 

“Besides, it’s also ridiculously _fluffy_,” Zack smirked, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Genesis, feeling his face heat up from such a comment, glared at the younger man. He began to retract his wing out of self-consciousness, but this time, he did it slowly...deliberately feeling the soft, gentle shift of his feathers as they gracefully overlapped. 

He then looked directly at Zack, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Accepting my wing to_ spite _people? That’s not a very ‘honourable’ thing to suggest.”

“God, if anything helps you appreciate your wing, then do it. Seriously.” 

Genesis closed his eyes, a tired smirk gracing his lips. “I’m having a bad influence on you. Angeal would be most displeased.”

“So what? He’s not here,” Zack winked, his mind buzzing. Suddenly, he had an idea. “Hey, you know what you should do?”

The redhead stared at him blankly, not catching the drift.

“You should go flying.”

“What, right _now?_ What for?” Genesis raised an eyebrow, folding his arms.

“Um. For _fun? _Haven’t you ever done that before?” Zack gave him an incredulous look.

“Considering our past _discussion_,” the redhead replied tersely, “no, I haven’t. It’s always been a means to an end. I’ve been _on the run_ this entire time, after all.”

“Holy crap, then what are you waiting for!? Get your ass in the air!” Zack started to bounce in his seat, excitement coming off him in waves. 

“What are you suggesting, pup? That I throw myself_ off a cliff _for an adrenaline rush?”

“_Yes!_” Zack pumped a fist. “Forget about degrading. Forget about ShinRa. Just..._fly_...as if it’s your first time.”

Genesis gave Zack a doubtful look._ The puppy...he’s serious. How can he be so damn optimistic about this thing with feathers I have?_

“C’mon, Genesis,” Zack wheedled, resisting the urge to drag the reluctant redhead outside by the arm. “It’ll be good for you!” He leapt to his feet and started squatting in place, pumping himself up.

“Only if you stop those infernal _squats,_” Genesis relented, shaking his head with growing amusement. He reached for his boots to put them on.

“God, I’m so excited!” The young SOLDIER jumped from foot to foot, mentally trying to hurry his companion along.

“You’re acting as if you’ve never seen me fly before, Fair,” Genesis quipped in response, securing the belts around his legs. He stood up and gracefully made his way to the front door.

“I haven’t! Well, okay, I have...but not like this, man!” Zack grinned, eagerly following the black-winged SOLDIER out into the fresh morning air. He stifled a laugh when he saw the longest primary feather dragging a thin line in the snow.

“Does it get in the way when you’re walking?”

“Not if I’m careful.”

“Does it feel weird coming out of your back?”

“Well, somewhat-”

“Do the feathers make your skin itch-”

“Enough, puppy! Goddess, how does Angeal cope with you?” Genesis sighed into his hand. He knew Zack meant well, and it was… nice that someone saw his wing in a positive light, but the constant questions…!

“Sorry!” Zack squeaked, clamping his mouth shut. “I’m just… really curious.”

“Yes, I can tell. Now step back.”

Obeying his instructions, Zack walked backwards until he felt he’d given Genesis enough room. He then watched in awe as the other SOLDIER slowly unfurled his velvet wing, stretching it out completely. He’d never had the chance to see it up close like this before. _It’s...breathtaking. Not even Angeal’s wing is that huge._

“That looks pretty damn badass, man,” Zack breathed.

Genesis half-turned to see the puppy’s expression, pausing midway to feel sunlight kissing his wing and a light breeze filling his feathers. He closed his eyes and let the sensations overtake him. He was surprised. It felt...good. _Really_ good. 

“That’s it, take it all in…” Zack whispered to himself, his smile growing wider. He’d never seen Genesis look so damn...peaceful. It was like seeing a whole new person. He still jumped from surprise when the redhead gave his wing an experimental flap.

“My apologies,” Genesis smirked, satisfied that his flight muscles felt warm, elastic and ready to work. “I’m a bit like a condor. I need to warm up.”

“Whatever you’ve gotta do,” Zack smiled, raising a hand in defence. “I’m just your one-man support band.” His eyes widened in confused curiosity when Genesis gracefully folded his midnight wing again. _C’mon, man, I’m ready for some action!_

Genesis took a step forward, checking to see that Zack was paying attention. 

“Watch and learn, Fair!” He then called, bursting into a hearty jog. As he built up speed, his muscles complained, but he continued to push through, gradually opening his wing and fanning it energetically until he caught the wind.

Zack let out a gasp, captivated with wonder. _God, look at him go. I’m so freaking jealous._

With each powerful stroke, Genesis consciously breathed in, employing his damaged senses to take in the sensations. In his feathers, he felt buoyancy, uplift, and strength. The wind caressed his face and ruffled his streaked hair. His feet felt weightless. His heart felt… joyously giddy. Something in his soul...came _alive._

It was a far cry from the first time he had taken flight. Back then, it had been out of fear. Disgust. Horror.

Hollander had been poking and prodding his injured shoulder for samples late one night, insistent on studying the cellular damage that triggered his degradation. Genesis was beyond exhausted and was becoming increasingly irritated by the fuss being made.

Suddenly, Hollander injected something into the wound.

His entire body then erupted with hellfire. Rage, agony, primal fear and desperation surged through him as his back convulsed and shapeshifted. Time became meaningless. Murderous thoughts were on his mind. A man - a human - had _hurt him,_ and revenge was a siren’s call. 

The scientist then jabbed him with a tranquiliser dart, usually reserved for lab beasts. As he began to collapse, Genesis caught sight of black feathers filling his vision. 

Adrenaline then took over, negating any sedation Hollander had hoped for. Thankfully, for the other man’s sake, his animalistic rage had passed. Genesis was far too shocked by the _gigantic blood-smeared wing_ protruding from his back to care. In a blur of suicidal self-hatred, he then smashed through the nearest window, so horrified by his monstrous transformation that death seemed like sweet release.

Thankfully, his self-preservation instincts kicked in, and whatever the monster was inside of him had taken flight. Shaken and disgusted, he returned to the window he had destroyed, and reported back to Hollander for answers...and to hide the evidence of feathers and blood.

But now…

Genesis slowly inhaled through the arctic winds as he circled higher, his powerful wing commanding the air.

He had _chosen_ flight this time. This experience was _his_.

Genesis felt his wing falter slightly as the realisation struck him. 

Goddess.

This experience was _human_.

A monster was _incapable_ of comprehending this sensation, let alone finding _joy _in it. 

And, Gaia, it was so unbelievably_ rare_. No other person, bar Angeal, was able to fly as a bird, free from gravity, free from _everything_. _Fair- no, _Zack-_ was right...this thing with feathers is...wonderful._

For the first time in years, Genesis felt a sincere smile creeping onto his face. 

Meanwhile, Zack had flopped backwards into the snow so he could watch without craning his neck. Hell, Genesis made it look so easy, swooping and circling and flitting wherever he damn well pleased. The young SOLDIER squinted, trying to focus his mako-enhanced eyes better.

“Wow, he looks...really _happy,” _Zack whispered, a wistful smile on his face. 

However, his vision was rudely interrupted by a mass of black.

Flailing his arms out in fear it was a giant bug, he quickly sat up, only to find a freakishly huge feather on his lap. 

“Holy hell,” he quipped, taking hold of the shaft. “This thing’s almost as big as _me!”_

Out of curiosity, he sliced the air with the oversized feather, amazed at the air resistance he felt. _I wonder what sort of feather it is..._

Zack leaned back again, this time noticing a tell-tale gap in Genesis’ wing. It appeared he’d lost a big one from the wing tip. He quirked an eyebrow in confusion. _Is that normal?_

Worried now, Zack examined the glossy feather more closely. The barbs near the base of the shaft were grey and wispy, and when he reached to touch them, they crumbled to dust in his fingers. His frown deepened as he looked skywards. _Degradation…?_

_That nosy pup,_ Genesis sighed with amusement, observing the young SOLDIER playing about with one of his feathers. Moulting season had crept up on him again, it seemed. 

A dull throb then began to pulse through his muscles. Sadly, even appreciating the gift of flight wasn’t enough to keep degradation fatigue at bay forever. 

_Well, time for my prescribed ‘adrenaline rush.’_

Genesis smirked briefly before aiming himself downwards and closing his wing, streaking to earth like a falcon dive-bombing prey. 

Zack had a few seconds to realise his companion was now plummeting from the sky, and promptly went into panic mode, thinking the worst. He leapt to his feet, mind racing as tried to get into a position that might break the redhead’s fall.

Mere metres from Zack and with moments to spare, Genesis swung his body upright and fanned his wing out to brake, his boots touching down with surprising precision. 

However, his legs gave out...and he felt himself falling straight into the powder-fresh snow.

Despite being scared shitless, Zack managed to catch the other SOLDIER’s arm out of reflex to stop his fall. 

“Nailed it,” Zack gasped, laughing nervously as he tried to recover his wits. 

“Damn degradation,” Genesis hissed, still unsteady and breathing hard. 

“Hey. You still nailed it.” This time, Zack looked at him more seriously, his expression awestruck. “That was incredible. How do you feel?”

“Exhausted...but _alive_,” the black-winged SOLDIER replied, his eyes looking back to the sky with longing. “It was… wonderful. I’ve never felt more..._free.”_

“Well, I am one-hundred-percent jealous,” Zack whined, mimicking a wing with his arm. “You should fly for fun more often. Burn off some of that hot-headed steam of yours and all.”

“Watch your tongue, pup,” Genesis shoved him slightly, but he was smiling.

Zack flashed him a stupid, cheesy grin, then flopped back-first into the snow like a kid. Genesis gave him an odd look as he flapped his limbs back and forth to make a snow angel.

“Hey, look,” Zack sniggered, deliberately making a snow-wing with only his right arm, “_I’m Angeal.”_

The older man looked away, a small chuckle shaking his winged shoulder. 

“Look at you, man,” Zack eyed Genesis from the ground, quirking an eyebrow with a smile. “You _do_ actually have a sense of humour.”

“Only because you helped me _find_ it,” the older man replied, bowing his head slightly. “Thank you for all of this, Zack.”

“Aw, no problem, my feathered friend!” Zack flashed him an overly enthusiastic smile, hopping back to his feet. His expression then froze in realisation.

“Holy crap _you just called me Zack.”_

“That’s your name, no?” Genesis raised an eyebrow. He looked down to see the younger SOLDIER was pointing at him for emphasis, but his reach was overly extended because he was holding an enormous _black feather_.

“First it was ‘puppy’, and then it was ‘Fair’...” Zack trailed off, his eyes lighting up. “Oh my god. Does that mean we’re friends?”

“If you stop pointing _my own feathers _at me, then maybe,” Genesis smirked, swatting the mass of black fluff away. “That was...very perceptive.”

“I’m more than just a pretty face, _Gen_,” Zack teased. This expression then rapidly became concerned. He clutched the feather tightly. “This big boy fell out while you were flying - is that a symptom…?”

This time, Genesis couldn’t resist a laugh. “Don’t be concerned. I moult once a year. It’s...normal, for me. I’m more like a bird than I care to admit.”

“What about this, though…?” Zack touched a few more wispy feather barbs. They too became dust.

“Ah, yes. That _is_ a symptom…” Genesis trailed off, the reminder of his illness tasting bitter in his mouth. “However, the rest of the shaft passes muster. I’ll have functional feathers for a while yet.”

“Good,” Zack breathed, his shoulders sagging in relief. “So, birdman, what sort of feather is this, then?” He looked at the other man curiously. 

_Hmph. My research is getting some use after all,_ Genesis mused to himself. He opened his wing to demonstrate the gap.

“That’s a primary feather - they’re critical for flight, so I only lose one at a time. When the new feather grows in, I’ll shed another.”

“Does that mean I can start a collection?” Zack looked excited. _Too _excited.

Genesis tucked his wing in defensively. _“Why?”_

The younger SOLDIER looked at him with puppy eyes, his face pleading. “Toys for Cobalt.”

_“Fine,”_ the redhead sighed, raising a hand in defeat. He felt more like Angeal in this situation than he wanted to admit. “Just...don’t train him to pounce on _me._” His wing twitched in apprehension.

“Me? Train Cobalt bad behaviour? _Never!_” Zack mock-gasped, bringing a hand to his heart. 

_Ch-ch-chiirrrp!_

Moments later, a giant birdlion had play-tackled the younger man to the ground.

“Oh, who’s a good birdie? Who’s a good birdie!? It’s you! Oh yes!” Zack cooed, ruffling Cobalt’s neck and chest feathers with enthusiasm. The griffon chirped and squeaked with joy. 

_My point entirely,_ Genesis smirked, instinctively stepping back to avoid the cuddle-fest. He then looked up to see Angeal swooping in to land. His old friend’s expression - a mixture of disappointment, concern and anxiety - sent a spark of worry through him.

After touchdown, Angeal briefly rested his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. That...had been an _awfully_ close call. 

“Thank the goddess you’re safe. Did you find anything?”

He looked up to see Genesis hovering over him with concern.

“Gen, I’m so sorry…” Angeal breathed, trying to straighten up. He met his friend’s anxious gaze with his own. “ShinRa has completely stripped Modeoheim. There’s nothing. We barely escaped before being seen.”

“I...see,” Genesis returned, attempting to mask his grave disappointment. Despite this, he touched Angeal’s sweaty arm and gave his old friend a sad smile. “No matter; I appreciate what you’ve done.”

“Wait, guys-! Hey, Cobalt- give me a minute, boy-” 

Laughing, Zack managed to escape the griffon’s friendly pounce and jogged the short distance to his feathered friends.

“Hollander is still hiding stuff,” he concluded, brushing white fur and feathers from his chest. “He told Angeal we were on a ‘need-to-know basis’ or some crap.”

Angeal’s expression turned somewhat hopeful. “Ah. Yes. He refused to say anything, naturally, but since Modeoheim was a bust…” 

“Then tell us, he shall!” Genesis concluded, turning on his heel with a swish of feathers. 

Angeal studied his old friend’s mannerisms as he and Genesis made their way back to the cabin. He was...different somehow. Or, more accurately, he seemed like his old, pre-accident self. His posture was proud, and he held his wing...high. _Interesting. Is that why they were outside…?_

“You coming, Zack?”

The young SOLDIER had returned to Cobalt, this time teasing him with what appeared to be one of Genesis’ _own feathers_. 

“Ah, sorry - yep!” Tossing the feather a short distance away, Zack sheepishly returned and followed his mentor inside. Before closing the door, he saw the griffon squawking and chirping as he play-hunted his new toy. 

He then yelped in surprise as he caught sight of a granola bar sailing through the air toward him. With lightning-fast reflexes, he managed to catch it. 

“We need sustenance before we interrogate Hollander,” Genesis tutted, waving his own bar in the air. “Besides, flying makes you really hungry.” He then tossed one to Angeal.

“Is that why you pair were outside?” Angeal mused, taking a seat on the stool. He relaxed and stretched his wing out slightly before unwrapping lunch. 

“Yep!” Zack beamed, throwing himself on the couch. He threw Genesis a cheeky smile. “It was poetry in motion.”

_“Goddess_, Zack,” Genesis whispered, looking away with embarrassment. Normally, he loved flattery, but for some reason, he was feeling...overly self-conscious. 

Angeal’s eyes went wide. Since when was his old, stubborn friend on first name terms with Zack? And why was he _flying_ for no apparent reason? Wasn’t he meant to be resting? Hell, here he was looking at his own black feathers with admiration! 

“I can see _many_ questions in your eyes, old friend,” the redhead murmured with a tired smile. 

“Well, _yes_,” the white-winged SOLDIER began, considering which to start with.

“Fear not; all will be answered in time,” Genesis reassured. “Let’s interrogate the bastard first, and then we’ll talk. I promise.”

Angeal looked at Genesis intently, but he saw sincerity, which surprised him. That was rare.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he agreed, finishing off his granola bar. He moved over to their comatose prisoner. “Okay. I’ll wake Hollander up. Gen, I’ll need you to re-cast Sleep on his legs like last time.”

“With pleasure,” Genesis smirked, a tingle of magic swirling around his fingertips. 

In moments, Hollander found himself slowly waking up once again to a trio of pissed-off SOLDIERs. He was really getting tired of this wretched sight...

“Modeoheim turned up empty, Hollander,” Angeal began. His voice then turned darkly serious. “Care to tell us what we _need to know_?”

_Clever monsters, _Hollander seethed. He was hoping they’d forget he had a backup plan, but that, he realised, was foolish to rely on. SOLDIER mako treatments also enhanced memory.

“A_ traitor_ I once knew, decades ago,” he spat, the memories bitter, “once made his escape to Icicle Inn, and lived there for quite some time.” 

The three SOLDIERs looked between each other with confusion. Obviously, they were clueless. Hollander hissed in a breath, knowing that he’d need to give them full disclosure if they were to believe him.

“He once headed ShinRa’s science department. Once he abandoned the company, the power vacuum saw that bastard _Hojo_ take over…”

“We _don’t care_ about your sob story,” Genesis hissed. He puffed his feathers. “Get to the point.”

Hollander glared at him. “The man in question? Professor _Gast Faremis_. His old lab in Icicle Inn is likely untouched, and full of supplies.” 

“Untouched?” Zack questioned. “What, is Professor Gast dead?”

“You_ fool,_” Hollander retorted. “He left ShinRa. Of course he’s dead. They discovered him and shot him on sight. Hojo was quite gleeful about it.”

Zack shuddered. He felt himself beginning to understand how concerned Genesis was with Sephiroth discovering them…

“So, why not tell us sooner?” Angeal raised an eyebrow. This information was hardly earth-shattering.

“Because he’s a _monster_ who likes to _mess_ with people,” Genesis growled, his eyes flashing in anger. 

Hollander appeared to be debating something inside his head. Eventually, he decided to tell the truth, if only to watch his failed experiment_ squirm._

“Gast headed the Jenova Project,” he began, a smirk twisting his lips as he saw Genesis and Angeal share pained looks.

Hollander then glared directly at Genesis. 

“He was also your biological _father_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welp.
> 
> There’s the bombshell.
> 
> And if you think that’s bad, just wait until Genesis discovers he has a half-sister, and Zack realises he may end up with unexpected brother-in-law one day. :P  
That’s been a huge headcanon of mine for years. 
> 
> Also, I freaking loved writing the existential wing crisis. I’m such a sucker for wings, angst and flying for fun. |D
> 
> ALSO A HUGE SHOUT OUT to TyrantChimera for drawing this gorgeous piece with Zack and Cobalt being ridiculously adorable. https://sta.sh/018hbpb24lu5
> 
> It’s amazing and I love it to bits. Heck. It also may have inspired a scene you all just read. :P 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! 
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a. AutumnalBlep
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.


	7. Inner Demons

Sephiroth was quite certain by this stage that sleep was, in fact, a _ myth_.

Slumber had tantalised and teased him all night, never slipping close enough for capture. Now, come morning, he was running on multiple SOLDIER energy drinks to stay conscious.

He slumped further into his office chair, his coat causing an unpleasant squeak of leather on leather. A stack of paperwork loomed over him ominously.

At this point, he felt like a glorified assistant. Every single promotion consideration for his lower-ranked colleagues had been shoved under his nose by Director Lazard for review. Normally, his opinion was considered only for potential 1st Class SOLDIERs. Suddenly, it was for _ everyone_. 

He’d been shut in his office for days now.

And yet, gracing the field seemed… undesirable. 

He liked it here. 

Outside threatened him with questioning gazes filled with fear, concern and...pity.

How had it come to this? 

He was meant to be a _ leader;_ confident in the face of any calamity. He was comfortable with others keeping their distance out of respect, awe or because of rank differences. Not out of _ sympathy_.

And, despite doubting the validity of Lazard’s report, he somehow felt...finality in his situation. Angeal, Genesis and Zack were _ gone. _ Whether it was due to physical death or by relational decay, he felt it was irrelevant at this point. They were lost to him.

Moving on was the only option.

And yet…

Sephiroth brought a hand to his temples, shooing away his dishevelled bangs. 

He had grown up lab-bound, isolated and lacking close relationships for _ years_.

Why was it hitting him so damn _ hard? _

Why was he straining his ears for a melodious voice to pepper his day with poetry?

Why did he long to see someone proudly showing him the miracle of growing herbs in _ Midgar_?

Or, heaven forbid, _ why _ did he suddenly want a nosy puppy bursting into his office?

He closed his heavily shadowed eyes, sucking in a long, deep breath to steady his thoughts. _Mind on the job, Sephiroth. These promotion papers won’t go considering themselves, will they? _

With an empty sigh, he straightened his posture, blinking hard to fight the urge to sleep. At least the entirety of ShinRa knew better than to intrude on his private office. He was free to let his emotional standards slip behind closed doors.

Unfortunately, a rudely-timed buzz interrupted him midway through the first review. 

He knew who it was before he retrieved his PHS. Only Lazard would encroach on him for something when all others were forbidden…

His catlike eyes narrowed as he skimmed the message.

_ “Sephiroth, please report to the briefing room. I have a mission request to discuss.” _

_ How irritatingly vague. _ Sephiroth snapped his phone shut. The Director seemed to know him well; despite his carefully constructed persona, curiosity was a weakness for him.

A quick hair adjustment later, and he was on his way to the briefing room. A cold glare was enough to keep _ anyone’s _eyes from lingering on him for long. 

He slipped into Lazard’s vicinity with an air of reluctance. 

“I trust this is of critical importance, Director.”

Undeterred, the blonde man eyed him with a level gaze. “Quite the contrary, actually. This mission is depressingly run-of-the-mill.”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly. “You summoned _ me_. It can’t be that simple.”

Lazard offered a slight smile. “Let me elaborate. A snow griffon, mutated by mako, has been terrorising the streets of Icicle Inn. Your task is to eliminate the threat and restore confidence in the people for ShinRa.”

“A _ PR mission? _ How...dull.” The General stared blankly at a spot on the wall above Lazard’s head. The words ‘Icicle Inn’ were still dancing in his mind, twisting through his neurons until they were replaced by ‘Modeoheim’ instead.

“Think of it...as a mission for _ mental health, _ General,” Lazard replied, his voice softening. “I’ve bogged you down with paperwork to keep you occupied, but clearly, doing so hasn’t reached my goal.”

“And that would be?”

“Helping you to...process changes. Fresh air will clear your head.”

Sephiroth was silent. He felt...betrayed, being forced out of his cocoon of an office. The paperwork was almost therapeutic. But, he knew Lazard was a man of the people, and he cared deeply for his staff. Even he, the great General, had to respect that.

“Also, better to face your demons directly,” the Director added, his voice...cryptic. “I believe the _ location _ will help desensitise you.”

The silver General lowered his gaze, drawing his brows together in consideration. 

“I am also sending an infantryman who was involved in…recent events nearby. I have the same hopes that doing so will help him overcome his emotional blocks.”

“I see. I hope my presence doesn’t throw him off.”

Lazard chuckled a little. “It won’t matter _ who _I send with you, General. That’s a risk for anyone.”

“A fair point,” Sephiroth smirked in reply. Perhaps, this time, he would trust the Director’s mission allocation. “Very well. I accept.”

“Splendid,” Lazard smiled, nodding in Sephiroth’s direction. “You’ll be on the first helicopter ready tomorrow morning, 6 AM sharp.”

“Understood,” the General replied, tipping his head in agreement. “However, in exchange, I would like to work from home this afternoon. I require some time to...prepare.”

“Always a 1st, using his privileges somehow,” the Director quipped, but his response was playful. “Permission granted.”

“Thank you, Director. Until then.” In a swish of silver, Sephiroth took his leave.

Once the General’s footsteps were out of earshot, Lazard covertly slipped a text message through to his ‘revenge party.’

_ “Sephiroth’s in; arrival at 2 PM tomorrow. Get ready.” _

* * *

A heavy silence clouded the room with tension.

Angeal and Zack turned to face Genesis in dismay, waiting for the inevitable fallout. 

“I suppose...that’s _ fitting,_” Genesis seethed, hatred simmering in his poetic voice. “I’m told of the _ actual _ man who seeded my birth, and of course, he’s already _ dead.” _

Zack shifted to the edge of the sofa, struggling to find the appropriate response as he saw his new friend lower his tired gaze to the floor. He frowned, his hands fidgeting...sometimes, Genesis was _ so damn hard _ to read. 

“Well, it serves me right...considering what I did to my _ other _ parents.” Self-loathing dripped from the redhead’s word as he tensed up with unwanted emotions. He felt a hesitant glove touch his wrist, and looked up to see Zack mouthing, _ “I’m sorry_._"_

Meanwhile, a knowing frown tainted the compassionate expression on Angeal’s face. “Can’t say I’m surprised, old friend...given that _ he-”_, he glared at Hollander, “is _ my _ father.”

Genesis released a mirthless laugh. He never quite believed what Hollander said about being Angeal’s birth father, but this revelation solidified it. “Hollander’s just a fountain of painful truths, isn’t he?”

“Wait, wait,” Zack started, an unfathomable idea forming in his mind. “Both your dads are jerkface scientists, so… Sephiroth’s dad…oh, oh _ god. _ It’s Hojo. It’s _ bloody Hojo_, isn’t it?” His eyes bugged in disgusted shock.

“A fate even _ I _ wouldn’t wish on him,” Genesis whispered, mostly to himself. Thank Minerva the resemblance was minimal - that greasy scientist looked _ ghastly _ on the best of days. 

“You nutjobs did this to your own freaking _ kids!? _ ” Zack continued, his disgust obvious. “What the _ hell _ is wrong with you, Hollander!?”

The lethargic scientist let out a huff, a sneer twisting his mouth. “Who else would be a suitable sperm donor capable of protecting company secrets, boy?”

Zack leaned back in revulsion, raising a hand to block his eyes from an unseen horror. “Nope! Nope. Not thinking about that. Too much detail. Time out.”

“And what of my _ mother?_” Genesis hissed. He too was pointedly determined to move the conversation on. 

“A nobody,” Hollander replied simply. “A young lab tech - probably _ silenced _ after she finished her role. She was unimportant, in any case.”

“Sexist bastard,” Zack spat with a glare.

“_Indeed_,” Genesis murmured. 

“I third that,” Angeal concluded, folding his arms in sullen disapproval.

Hollander felt no need to defend his statement; it was the truth, after all. He looked back at the trio with irritating smugness. “Regardless, none of this information matters. We’ll all be run through with a masamune by tomorrow’s end.”

Zack, filled with suppressed rage that was rapidly escaping, nearly tackled the portly scientist then and there. Sadly, he forced himself to settle for looming over him with fists at the ready. “You just _ shut the hell up, _okay? I trust Sephiroth. They do too.”

“And that will be our downfall,” Hollander hissed in reply, his eyes narrowed.

“God, that’s _ it!”_

_ Crack! _

Breathing hard, Zack stared at his bloodied glove. Hollander, now sporting a broken nose, crumpled into unconsciousness. “Go to _ hell,” _ the young SOLDIER spat, an uncharacteristic hatred dancing in his glowing eyes.

“Bravo, Zack!” Genesis crowed, gesturing an arm - and wing - in approval. 

Angeal, meanwhile, shook his head in mock disfavour, trying to hide his own satisfied smile. He stood up to make sure the headblow wasn’t deathly traumatic.

As Angeal slid past him, Zack jumped, feeling his mentor offer a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The hairs on the back of his neck then stood up as he felt the warmth of cure-based magic crackle through the air.

“Sorry to ruin the fun,” the white-winged man interjected, raising a hand to silence the objections the other two were about to raise. “Can’t have him dying on us yet. Just being careful.”

‘Yeah,_ okay,” _ Zack mumbled, slinking back to his seat. Man, knocking Hollander across the nose had felt _ great_.

Silence settled around them as Angeal double-checked Hollander’s condition. Zack leaned over slightly to whisper to Genesis. “I’m sorry about your real dad, man. And your mum.”

“Don’t be,” the other man mumbled, his expression distant...and sad. “I deserve no less.” 

Zack replied with a quiet ‘hmm,’ his expression uncertain. _ Better drop it for now. _

After another minute, Angeal silently returned to the stool, his wing tucked awkwardly close. He shut his eyes in thought.

_ Heavens, he’s...brooding, _ Genesis observed. _ Perhaps it’s time to- _

A rude _ ‘bzzzzzt!’ _ interrupted both his thoughts and his old friend’s turmoil. 

Angeal was thankful for the distraction, and in moments, his eyes were darting across a message from Lazard. 

“Sephiroth… _ is _ coming,” Angeal murmured, flipping the PHS closed with a snap. “We’ve been told to ‘prepare ourselves’ for 2 PM tomorrow.”

A weighty silence blanketed the room as the news settled. Angeal, his mood continuing to darken, studied his friend’s reactions with curiosity to see if they reflected his own. Zack’s expression became a fascinating mix of both fear and hope, which only served to contrast the look of hollow guilt and regret Genesis was displaying.

And as for Angeal himself? For some reason, he found his fatigued mind clawing for the sweet release of death.

If it hadn’t been for Genesis’ rapid deterioration and Zack’s heroic intervention days earlier, Angeal _ knew _ he himself would have orchestrated his own death. Continuing on was a pointless exercise given what he and Genesis were becoming. 

And yet, despite having newfound purpose in rehabilitating his childhood friend, he felt at peace with the idea of Sephiroth taking his life. He knew it was a very real - and deserved - possibility, after all. For instance, even if Genesis were to recover, where would they go after that? A tiny band of men - even with Sephiroth - against the might of ShinRa was in itself just another means of suicide.

Death was inevitable; it was just a matter of when to seize it. Besides, living in the world as a human-monster chimera would ostracize them all into exile, mocked and ridiculed by the viciousness of human nature...

“Friend, look at me.”

Angeal was startled out of his thoughts by a hand resting on his tightly retracted wing. He raised his head and suppressed a startled gasp when he saw Genesis standing beside him. A foreign expression graced his friend’s features - it was...kindness? Empathy?

“Should the arrow indeed leave the bow of the goddess tomorrow, there’s something I’d like to share with you first,” Genesis murmured, unfolding his wing slightly. 

A sliver of blackness fell away from Angeal’s thoughts. “And what would that be?”

Genesis gave Zack a knowing glance. “Something your pupil taught me.”

At first, Angeal frowned. _ Zack, teaching something to...Genesis? Maybe I really _ did _ die a few days ago. _

“Don’t worry, Angeal! It’s not a prank or anything!” Zack interjected, scurrying over from the sofa. 

Genesis motioned grandly towards the front door in a beckoning gesture. “Care to follow me outside?”

Angeal released a tired sigh and stretched himself into a standing position. With both Zack _ and _ Genesis in cahoots on something, resisting was futile. 

The trio stepped out into the early afternoon sun. Despite the apparent warmth, the snow remained crisp, white and frozen. Well, except for the part where Cobalt had pounced around earlier. Now the silly griffon was stretched out on the ground, belly up and sunning himself, surrounded by grey-black fluff.

As they walked a short distance from the cabin, Genesis felt a twinge of longing ripple through his feathers. He really..._wanted _to fly this time, but he consciously resisted the impulse. The task of helping Angeal came first. 

He raised a hand to stop once they had enough room to spread their wings.

“So what’s this all about?” Angeal mumbled, folding his arms. 

“Do as I do,” Genesis returned softly, gesturing his left arm. He closed his eyes and slowly unfolded his wing into the sunlight. 

Angeal, still skeptical, raised an eyebrow. Hesitantly, he did the same. 

“What do you feel?” Genesis asked quietly.

The white-winged SOLDIER squeezed his eyes shut. He _ didn’t _ want to focus on his wing. The weight of it stretching from his shoulder felt altogether unnatural and strange. He felt abnormal. Even _ flying _ was just a bizarre convenience to him; thinking about what it meant for his existence was too distressing. It was just a means to an end...whatever that even _ was _ anymore. 

“I feel..._ wrong_,” Angeal whispered, and suddenly he felt very exposed. He tightly folded his feathers in shame and turned himself away.

_ Damn it, _Zack thought, grimacing to himself. He gave Genesis a hopeless look.

_ “Why?” _ Genesis’ tone became sharper. It lacked anger, but it conveyed something Angeal was starting to think he should’ve realised. Whatever judgements he made about himself were going to apply to his childhood friend. 

However, Angeal was an honest man. He owed them his truth.

“I am a _ hellspawn,_” he began, clenching his teeth in disgust, “of Jenova...a parasitic viral organism from _ space. _ I can _ infect _ other creatures, and I...can absorb them, and take on their traits. Whatever ‘humanity’ I have can be lost at a moment’s notice.”

A spark of pain flashed across Genesis’ scarred features as he tried to stomach his childhood friend’s brutal words. This wasn’t doing Zack’s reassurances from earlier _ any _ favours.

“And, to think,” Angeal laughed mirthlessly, “I was going to do it, too.”

“But- that would...kill you,” Zack breathed. Suddenly, the synapses connected in his mind. Oh_ god_. Angeal was _ suicidal _ all this time. If he had left Genesis that day, and raced to find his mentor… 

“So, what does that make me then?” The white-winged SOLDIER spat, breaking his eye contact with Zack and turning his head away in shame. “A _ monster _ of monsters. This _ wing _ just makes it obvious.”

“Wrong.” 

Mentor and student froze at this clipped retort. 

Genesis, despite the now familiar guilt stabbing his psyche, continued. “I’m afraid that title must be earned.”

He began to pace through the snow, listing things on his fingers with dramatic flair. “Firstly, you must betray, emotionally torture or kill your loved ones - and that’s just the _ start.” _

Zack felt himself step back out of instinct. What was Genesis playing at…?

“Then you need to follow it through,” the black-winged SOLDIER continued, his voice cracking with emotion. “Declare war on the world, take hundreds of innocent lives and destroy peace and stability. Infect _ others _ with your cursed genes. Make everyone _ suffer _ for your own selfish ambitions...and drive your best friend to self-destruction.”

At these last words, spoken with barely more than a whisper, Genesis fell at his friend’s feet and bowed his streaked head in shame.

“A Jenova-spawned wing defines _ nothing,_” he murmured. “All you need to do is follow in my atrocious footsteps.”

_ Holy shit. _ Zack stood rigid in shock. He couldn’t believe the responsibility Genesis was so openly declaring. Guilt, however, quickly replaced this - he _ needed _to firmly believe this change of heart was real.

Genesis adjusted his position to look up at his old friend, his eyes swimming with honest regret. “Angeal, I...am_ truly _sorry.”

Angeal slowly lowered himself down until he too was knee-deep in snow. He took a slow, shaky breath, and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“I forgive you.”

A breath Genesis didn’t know he was holding escaped his chest and released an unexpectedly self-deprecating chuckle. “Therein lies my point.”

Angeal looked at him with confusion, and his bewilderment only deepened when he felt himself pulled by Genesis into a tight _ hug_. 

“Only a paragon of honour and humanity could do_ that_.”

“Do...what?”

“Forgive _ me_, _ a monster!” _ The redhead let out a sad, tearful laugh, trembling in the embrace. He pulled back and placed his hands on Angeal’s shoulders with defiance. “You chased after me when I left...you’ve cared for me on every step of his hellish journey even when I pushed you away at every turn. A monster wouldn’t have given a _ damn.” _

Once again, Angeal found himself stunned into silence by his friend’s words - but this time, it was sincerity, not irritating poetic mysteries, that confounded him. As he faced Genesis, all he could read in the redhead’s pale eyes was the comfort of a childhood friend he thought he’d long since lost. 

“To be a monster is a _ choice,_” Genesis murmured, “and cannot be decided by genetic fate.”

“Brrrrp?” 

Startled, Angeal hesitantly raised his wing slightly only to find Cobalt trying to nuzzle and preen his feathers. The griffon saw his master had noticed, but paid him no mind and continued to cuddle closer, snuffling his beak under Angeal’s hand for affection. 

The white-winged SOLDIER couldn’t stop the tug of a rueful smile on his lips. If nothing else, his genes had at least turned this otherwise wild griffon into a loving, seemingly sentient creature. _Perhaps that counts_ _for something_.

“...thank you, my friend,” Angeal whispered, feeling the suffocating pull of self-loathing starting to ease. 

“Minerva, don’t thank _ me_,” Genesis scoffed, “thank _ him._” He gestured an arm at Zack who stood a small distance away with a look of ‘who, me?’ surprise on his youthful face. “That one is doggedly persistent.”

“You know it,” Zack grinned, plopping down beside them. 

“Well, this is a first,” Angeal nodded slowly, seeing both Genesis and Zack sharing proximity _ without _ sparks flying. “I never expected to be receiving a joint pep talk from both _ you _ and Genesis in _ tandem _ ...what _ happened _ between you two?”

“I convinced apple-boy over here that wings are _ awesome_,” the young SOLDIER beamed, throwing an arm around his new friend’s shoulders.

“Damn it, Zack,_ get off,” _ Genesis growled, but the barest hints of a smile betrayed his otherwise serious tone. “Yes, it’s true - what I said to you is what Zack helped me see.”

“And you know what comes next, right?” Zack excitedly mock-poked the redhead in his side. He let out a boyish laugh despite being comically shooed away.

Despite electing to ignore the younger man’s annoyance tactics, Genesis caught Zack’s drift. In moments, he quickly unfurled his wing to make his point - and to smack his new friend as revenge for the unwanted physical attention. 

“‘Geal, you...no, _ we _ should go flying,” the black-wing SOLDIER murmured, eyeing his best friend with a look that could only be described as longingly... _ hopeful. _

Angeal looked at him briefly with uncertainty. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

_ “Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul,” _ Genesis began, a familiar poetic lilt to his voice. Zack struggled to hide a groan, but whether that was from LOVELESS or the feathery smack he just experienced was unclear. _ “Pride is lost, wings stripped away, the end is nigh... _what is there for me to lose, friend?”

And, with that, he gathered all his degrading strength into a powerful jump and leapt gracefully into the wind. “Last one up is a rotten dumbapple!” 

“Just like when we were kids,” Angeal chuckled, shaking his head with amusement. Zack gathered his wits just in time to see his mentor leap into the air, feeling the rush of wind his wing left behind. He couldn’t hide his wobbly smile - the older man finally looked _ free_. 

Zack sighed in relief, and was about to flop completely onto his back like before, but an excited squawk startled him. He then felt a beak close firmly around his hand - not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to grab his attention. “Hey, hey, Cobalt- that’s my hand- _ ow-” _

The energetic griffon showed no signs of relenting. His muffled squeaks became louder and more insistent as he tried to drag the young SOLDIER to his feet. Reluctantly, Zack obliged, and was immediately presented with Cobalt lowering down slightly, his wings poised for takeoff. He chirped expectantly.

“What, you want me on?” Zack questioned, leaning a little closer.

Cobalt bounced his legs slightly and threw his head back, releasing a happy, if raucous, call in agreement. 

The young SOLDIER felt bad; he wanted Cobalt to have his freedom, and didn’t want to just use him as a steed, and he also didn’t want to interrupt any old-friend-bonding going on up there, but…

“Oh _ alright_,” Zack grinned, setting himself on Cobalt. The griffon was so excited his feathers had started to puff up, making it challenging for Zack to get a firm grip that wasn’t painful for the birdlion. Once Cobalt sensed he had a decent hold, he bounded forward with glee, beating his wings with force until he caught the wind. 

Before long, griffon and SOLDIER found themselves swooping amongst both Genesis and Angeal, the former calling out encouragement to his childhood companion. The redhead paused in surprise when he saw Zack and Cobalt pulling up beside him with wings beating in tempo. 

The griffon let loose a caw that sounded almost like laughter and playfully clipped his wing against Genesis before diving out of retaliation range. Above the whistling winds he heard deep, sincere laughter bellowing from Angeal some distance away.

“My my,” Genesis called, manoeuvring himself to return the favour to his old friend. “I do believe that’s cheating!”

For once in his life, Angeal looked childishly sheepish, and folded his wing into a rapid dive to avoid a feathery smacking. Obviously, he had _ slightly _ influenced Cobalt to do that.

Meanwhile, Zack sucked in the fresh, crisp mountain air, daring to try and feel what his friends were. While it wasn’t quite the same, for that moment, the joy of flight bound them as one.

* * *

A door slammed.

Keys skated across the kitchen bench with a metallic hiss, smacking into a pile of dirty plastic takeaway containers.

Sephiroth carelessly flung his coat onto the back of a chair and sank to the floor, leaning his back on a nearby wall.

Why in Gaia’s name did he _ accept _ that mission?

He wasn’t ready. 

Not yet.

In the moment, he had wanted to trust Lazard. He felt it was wise - after all, rejecting all previous missions involving _ them _ hadn’t turned out favourably. 

This one was seemingly unrelated. Simple monster extermination. A routine job. 

But the location… what if he saw…?

Sephiroth sucked a breath through his teeth.

This was ridiculous. They were dead. ShinRa had completely cleared the area. There was _ nothing _ left to see.

Just the feathered ghosts of his own memories. 

Phantoms that posed no threat. 

And yet… he felt dread. An unwelcome intruder amongst the numbness that had clouded him for months. Goddess, if they saw him now, what would they think?

A lecture in good eating habits from Angeal was certainly called for. Ever since his friend had deserted, Sephiroth had steadily lost interest in any sort of cooking adventures. Now that he was distanced from a lab-chosen diet, he had grown to love the new and delightful foreign tastes Angeal kept insisting he tried. 

And how was he honouring his friend’s memory?

By eating _ takeaway_. Usually Wutaian. Always greasy. 

Genesis would then enter with a flourish, dramatically aghast at the state of his apartment. In a sweeping arm movement, he would declare his living space atrocious, and then start rearranging, cleaning and tidying everything in sight. He would rope Angeal into washing _ anything _ with a speck of dust on it - down to the decorative doona pillowcases that were never used by _ anyone. _

Instead, Sephiroth sat amongst the chaos that was his residence. Dishes were piled on the bench. Clutter was festooned across all flat surfaces. Bills, letters, unwashes glasses, pieces of lint, food wrappers… all of it neglected and forgotten. Sword polish had spilled on the table, leaving an unsightly stain on the wood varnish. 

All motivation to fix any of it? Gone. Out the window. Disappeared. Vanished.

Sephiroth, frankly, did not give a damn.

His passion and zest for life had dwindled and died ever since _ they _ had left.

And Zack’s departure was the final nail in the coffin as far as he was concerned.

It was strange, though. Others seemed to know he was suffering, and for obvious reasons. But no one had realised this was just the tip of the iceberg; he’d been feeling this way for _ months. _

He hadn’t thought depression was possible for someone of his calibre.

Certainly, the company psychologists and that bastard Hojo would deem him mad. He was meant to be perfect. Such a diagnosis was insane. 

But, somehow, Lazard...knew something more was going on.

Hence the mission assignment.

Perhaps, actually _ feeling _ dread was a sign he was meant to go. Dealing with his demons might break his numb cycle of apathy and sadness.

Besides, this was a mission to protect civilians. He could focus entirely on those outside of himself, and his old friends as he once knew them...would _ want _ him to defend the world. 

As confused and as hurt as he was, he had to honour their memory. The _ right _way.

If that meant ripping open old wounds, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, damn guys, I am SO sorry for the giant break. Writer's block smacked me in the face, and work became really freaking busy. That graphic designer life, honestly...
> 
> Anyway, I absolutely loved getting to explore Sephiroth's mindset in this chapter. I haven't written him much at all before, so it was challenging but refreshing.
> 
> Also - it was definitely a challenge to tackle Angeal's perceptions too - I had to slowly tease that part of the chapter out over several weeks. Kinda painful!
> 
> Right, enough rambling - I have the next chapters sort of planned, but might be a little before the next update as I iron out the details. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this long awaited update! :D
> 
> ~ May (a.k.a AutumnalBlep) 
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.


	8. Black Suit

“For Gaia’s sake, _work, _damn you!” 

_Smack smack smack!_

Cissnei groaned in exasperation after slapping her materia bracelet _again._ Like any frustrated person dealing with malfunctioning technology, she was down to the last resort - forcibly smacking sense into it.

Unfortunately, the seemingly faulty Chocobo Lure materia failed to respond. Again.

The young Turk sucked in a deep breath, resolute that she _would_ find a ride by sundown. She’d already trekked fruitlessly through the snowfields for the last _two hours_. Despite channelling all her energy into this _godforsaken_ materia, she’d seen no trace of a giant bird. She’d rearranged the materia slots. Nothing. She’d needlessly guzzled two ethers _back to back_. Still nothing. 

And it was getting _unbelievably cold._ An ominous collection of dense, heavy clouds swirled in the distance; harbingers of relentless snowfall. 

“Damn surveillance missions,” Cissnei hissed, pulling the cords of her jacket hood tighter around her face. Was it _really_ necessary to send her so far ahead of Sephiroth’s schedule? What was she meant to do for an_ entire day_ beforehand? Wait around? Buy pointlessly adorable souvenirs to collect dust in her apartment?

At this rate, she’d be hunkering down for survival and forfeiting her accommodation. Still, if it were any consolation, there was no way the silver General would know she was there. Her transport was expertly camouflaged and nestled amongst the mountains. 

A small fire crackled to life in her gloved hands as she trudged her way through ankle-deep snow. _Forget the stupid lure - all I can do now is stay warm_. At least her Fire materia didn’t tax her mana too much. 

_I hope _they’re_ holding out in this weather…_

Cissnei desperately wished she could have done more that fateful day. Somehow, putting her job - her _life_ \- on the line didn’t seem enough, given the dire circumstances. The only comfort she had was knowing that Zack was still in chipper spirits; Aerith had reassured her as much before she left on assignment. 

She doubted she’d stumble across them though. The unforgiving mountainous terrain spanned for miles, and so far, she’d been forced to make progress on foot. Honestly, aimlessly walking felt rather pointless, given the lack of finding an oversized feathery friend. She could only hope a chocobo would materialise while she searched for somewhere to hole up for the night. 

With a defeated sigh that swirled through the air like steam, Cissnei began making her way up a steep rise. The crest would be the perfect vantage point for her to scout potential shelter options.

As she rounded the top of the rocky hill, she yelped in surprise as a sharp gust of wind knocked her backwards. As she lost her footing, she saw a rush of white feathers fill her vision as a giant creature swept past her. Thankfully, a mound of snow broke her fall. 

In seconds she scrambled back to where she was, her heart thumping in her ears as she crouched for greater stability. Her hands fumbled for Rekka, her shuriken, as she scanned the valley below. 

Her breath caught in shock.

She could see _them_.

Genesis, graceful even in sickness, swooped effortlessly through the sky. Angeal, looking happier than she’d ever seen him, zipped in from behind and landed a snowball on his childhood friend’s wing. A playful yelp of surprise later and she saw the redhead dive to prepare his own arctic onslaught in revenge.

Cissnei felt an overwhelming squeeze of jealous longing. 

She had wanted_ this_ all her life. 

The weightless joy of leaving gravity behind to wheel through the skies, untethered from expectations. The wind caressing her feathers and ruffling her hair, the power and lift from her beautiful wings, letting her soar anywhere she pleased, and...

...freedom to _choose_.

Something that she had never, ever known.

From her earliest memories, her destiny was handpicked for her. Life in the orphanage left inhabitants with two options - either develop enough skill to eventually be hired by ShinRa, or get kicked out into the slums. 

Cissnei was a survivor - failing to prove herself was never an option. Her strength, endurance and integrity had gotten her this far, but now-

“_Skreeeee!”_

A collection of sharp talons embedded in her shoulders, and Cissnei could barely scream in surprise before her breath was snatched away by rushing wind. 

In seconds, her fight-or-flight response roared to life and adrenaline rippled through her body. She began to flail in a desperate attempt to release the creature’s powerful claws, but whatever had her only held on tighter. She tried to reach and break the beast’s grip, but she soon found her arms restrained instead of her shoulders.

And then she looked down. 

A birds-eye view landscape greeted her. 

Suddenly, she was_ glad_ she wasn’t being dropped at this moment; she’d fall to her death otherwise.

Then, over the roar of the wind, she heard what sounded suspiciously like _human_ yells. 

But there wasn’t enough time to focus on that. Cissnei felt her stomach drop as what she now presumed was a griffon folded its wings into a rapid dive. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed her end would be swift. Death by flying - it was laughably ironic, given her earlier musings.

However, instead of the _thud_ of her own body greeting her, she felt the icy chill of hitting snow, but not nearly at the speed she anticipated. Before she could scramble up, she felt the griffon’s heavy-set talons pinning her down.

“No, no, no-! Cobalt, stop! She’s a _friend!”_

_Is that...Zack?_

Cissnei felt the birdlion give a guttural warning growl, mixed in with the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. She struggled and managed to turn her head, and was met with three pairs of boots and the rest of the griffon’s tensed limbs.

“Cobalt, boy, it’s okay, it’s okay...trust me...”

What was now _definitely _Zack Fair’s voice was apparently trying to calm the griffon down. Surprisingly, she felt the pressure on her back ease slightly. It seemed it was _working_. 

A deeper voice spoke. “It’s alright, Cobalt. That’s the Turk who helped us.” 

Cissnei felt like crying from relief at that point; she knew Angeal of all people would be level-headed about the situation. 

Then, the pressure released, and she struggled to her feet as fast as she could.

Zack was doting on her in seconds. “God, Cissnei, I’m _so _sorry,” he started, his aqua eyes wide with regret. She nearly stepped back in surprise when she felt the soft warmth of healing magic close the wounds and heal the bruises the griffon’s claws had caused. “Cobalt’s a bit overprotective.”

“T-thanks,” she managed to stutter through the shock._ Is Cobalt...the name of the griffon? Wait, wait- those markings...is it an Angeal copy?_

“_Why_ is the _Turk _here? How did she find us?” 

Cissnei looked to see Genesis glaring at her, his velvet wing half unfurled with feathers raised in what looked to be a threatening display. She gasped in wonder at the sight of it, barely paying the degrading SOLDIER’s aggression any mind.

“Gaia to Cissnei?” Zack called hesitantly, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Ah, yes, sorry,” she stammered, ripping her gaze from the winged SOLDIER to meet Zack’s concerned expression. “I...I found you by accident. I’ve been assigned to keep watch on Sephiroth. He’s coming to Icicle Inn on a mission tomorrow.”

Cissnei’s voice trailed off. Oh. _Oh no_. 

Her eyes fell on Cobalt, who by now was grooming his foreleg, past animosity apparently forgotten. She swallowed anxiously.

“Sephiroth was sent to kill a _mutated griffon_,” she continued, motioning a shaky hand in Cobalt’s direction. Her voice then turned desperate. “Have they seen you? Do they know? _Are you safe?”_

She felt a calm, reassuring hand resting on her shoulder. Her worried gaze met with Angeal’s steady, calm expression. “It’s okay, Cissnei. We’ve planned this.”

“What? _How?”_

Zack grimaced in her direction. This was going to sting a bit. 

“Lazard is helping us,” the young SOLDIER spoke, his voice gentle now, as if to soften the blow.

Initially, Cissnei’s ochre eyes widened in shock. However, this was quickly replaced by a defeated groan as she sighed into her hands. “ShinRa’s _really_ up the creek, isn’t it? _That’s_ why he bought my coverup story for you so _damn easily…”_

She felt Zack grab her hands, and met his gaze to see his expression brimming with honest gratitude. “I know it’s a mess, but...without you, we’d be goners.” She felt herself pulled into a Zack bear-hug. _“Thank you.”_

“I _had to,_” she murmured, returning the embrace. She pulled back and hesitantly looked at Genesis, who was still eyeing her with apprehension. “There wasn’t a choice after what I saw. I’m... glad you’re okay, Genesis.” 

The redhead eyed her cautiously, but relaxed his posture and slowly folded his wing. He tipped his head in a slight nod of recognition. She managed a hesitant smile in return, but this quickly shifted into worried panic when she saw him shudder and begin to lose his balance.

Angeal was by his side in seconds and offered his arm in support. Genesis hissed in a breath and took his gesture gratefully, leaning his weight on his friend as shivers made him tremble. 

_Damn. I jinxed it, didn’t I? _Cissnei winced. She looked over at Zack, her concerned expression matching his perfectly. “Is...is that why you arranged for Sephiroth’s arrival? Can he help Genesis somehow?”

Zack shrugged helplessly, but a dark look shadowed his features. “According to _Hollander_,” he spat, looking disgusted, “yes.”

The Turk narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You’re not _allies_ with him, are you?”

“Not if you count forced imprisonment as an ‘alliance’,” he replied, nodding in the direction of the nearly snow-buried cabin he was currently calling home.

“Ah. I see. It’s out of sheer necessity,” Cissnei murmured, looking sympathetic. 

“Trust me, if we could somehow save Genesis on our own, we would,” Zack lamented with a defeated sigh. 

“Hey, chatterboxes - let’s head inside. Gen isn’t doing so well.”

SOLDIER and Turk turned to see Angeal gently guiding the degrading SOLDIER in the direction of the tiny house. Despite his constant shivering, sweat gleamed off his arms and face in the weakening afternoon sun. 

Cissnei gave Zack a questioning look, but he merely waved her over as a signal to follow. Before she took another step, she felt something smooth gently push into her palm. Curiously, she turned to see Cobalt himself nuzzling his beak into her hand, flattening his feather crest and making soft, low, whimpering chirps. 

“Are you apologising?” She chuckled, tentatively stroking the top of his head. Cobalt chirped sadly in response, snuffling his head into her fingers. He looked up at her soulfully.

“Oh, _alright,_ I forgive you,” she laughed, moving to scratch him under the beak. He trilled with delight before bouncing on ahead of her, kicking up plooms of powder-snow in his wake. She chuckled quietly and pondered the similarities between Zack and his feathery companion as she headed towards the cabin.

By the time she caught up, Cissnei entered to find Genesis buried in a huddle of feathers on the bed, trembling slightly in the wake of his fevered exhaustion. Meanwhile, Angeal had started to rekindle the fireplace whilst his pupil gave a comatose Hollander a quick once-over for any signs of attempted escape. 

“It feels like a noodle night to me,” Zack then hummed, heading over to the tiny counter to rummage through some large paper bags. “They’ll fit the whole ‘SOLDIER barracks’ mood we’ve got going on here.”

“Only because you purchased _way too many cups_,” Angeal sighed, though a smile played on his lips. “Fill that frying pan with water and I’ll try and boil it.” 

“Any way I can help?” Cissnei questioned with some hesitation. She stood by the closed door, feeling rather out of place now that she had time to slow down and breathe. 

“Keep an eye on Genesis, if you could,” Angeal called as he steadied the pan over the fire. 

“Sure, I can do that,” she replied, offering a somewhat shy smile. Cautiously, she edged over to the frayed couch and sat at the end closest to the feathered SOLDIER in question. 

Up close, she had to hold in her shock - Genesis looked...well, ghastly felt harsh, but he _definitely_ looked unwell. Her eyes traced the rough, puckered scars on his shoulder until they rested on his glossy black feathers.

She was mesmerised. 

The firelight shimmered on the shafts, highlighting each individual feather as it neatly tucked under its neighbour. She truly longed to know what they felt like - the shift of feathers across her skin, wings able to unfurl and take off in a single, beautiful moment. If only…

“What are you _staring _at, Turk?” 

Cissnei suppressed a jolt as she was rapidly pulled from her daydreaming. She felt the cold stare of Genesis on her yet again.

She turned her head away in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, it’s just that...your wing, it’s...beautiful. I’ve never seen the real thing up close before.” 

Genesis felt his eyes widen as a flicker of _something_ danced through him. That made _two people_ who liked his altered form without judgement. He..._liked_ it. Perhaps he could get used to taking pride in his wing after all. 

However, his expression shifted into uncharacteristic concern when he saw Cissnei shift further away on the sofa. She shook her head slightly with closed eyes, almost as if to dispel an unpleasant thought. _Goddess...she’s afraid of me, isn’t she?  
_

“Somehow, my feathers you admire,” Genesis murmured quietly, “...yet, you are afraid.”

Cissnei laughed nervously despite the obvious discomfort on her features. “Forgive me. One of your...erm, copies...nearly peppered me to death with bullets once.”

Once again, the winged SOLDIER felt the now too-familiar stab of guilt; he only imagined this was one of hundreds of apologies he was facing in his future. He closed his eyes in regret and sunk his head further into the pillow. “Please...accept my deepest apologies. You are right to fear me.”

“Perhaps,” she replied somewhat ruefully, offering him a hesitant smile. “But, I’m seeing more ‘man’ than ‘monster’ right now, so...don’t be so hard on yourself.”

_My body’s doing that for me_, Genesis winced internally, feeling a ripple of agony shudder through his muscles. He did his best to suppress the groan, but Cissnei still heard his pain. 

“Can I do anything?” She whispered, moving closer to observe him better.

“Some water, if...if you could,” the redhead mumbled with a small voice. He counted his breaths as he endured another series of muscle throbs. 

In moments, a water bottle was being pushed into his hands. Carefully, he slowly moved his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself upright. He set the cap down and took a long, grateful gulp.

Meanwhile, Cissnei had frozen in surprise. His wing was currently pushing against her shoulder.

Genesis lowered his drink, and caught sight of Cissnei’s apparent shock. He felt the familiar tug of a smirk starting to warm his features. 

“Oh, sorry...don’t mind me,” she mumbled, taking a step backward and turning her head away to hide her heated embarrassment. “I was just...wondering what it felt like…”

“Why don’t you find out?”

Cissnei turned back, stunned. “W-what? Are you sure?”

Wordlessly, but not without a half-smile, Genesis gently pushed his wing into her hands. 

The Turk was speechless, but accepted the gesture. With great hesitation, she lightly traced her fingers over the smaller feathers near the wing’s top, the velvety softness leaving her rapt. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and her hands slowly moved toward the outer primary feathers.

Genesis watched her with amusement, and bit back a relaxed sigh; _goddess_, it felt...really nice. He noted, with some self-consciousness, that the sensation would easily lull him to sleep if he allowed such a thing. 

Honestly, now that he considered it, months had passed since he’d felt anything other than the pull of degradation. This sensation was...almost _foreign_ it felt so good.

“You know,” Genesis murmured with a playful smirk, “there’s more of me than _just_ my wing.”

Cissnei froze, her expression turning incredulous as it dawned on her. 

She’d fallen right into his trademark flirtatious trap. 

“God, even like_ this,_” she scolded, mock-pushing him away, “you’re still such a _damn flirt!_” 

Before he could continue teasing her with his wile words, she turned around and promptly began showing a deep interest in Angeal as he carefully poured piping hot water into a noodle cup. 

“‘Geeaaaaal,” Genesis mock-whined, theatrically clutching his winged shoulder, “that Turk is trying to _hurt _me!”

“That’s _Cissnei_ to you, _SOLDIER,”_ she smugly replied, not breaking her gaze from dinner preparations. Her cheeks were on fire, and she’d be _damned_ if she gave him the satisfaction of seeing what he’d done. 

“Pardon the thespian,” Angeal said with a low voice, but he knew his friend could hear. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with _much_ worse,” Cissnei waved her hand nonchalantly. “Certain Turks can be absolute _babies._” She could practically _feel_ the look Genesis was giving her now and subconsciously lowered her voice. “Still, he mustn’t be feeling too terrible if he’s showing his usual colours.”

Angeal took a furtive glance at his old friend. Sure enough, despite his sudden fever spike after flying, Genesis was still sitting upright, having just found his place in his faithful copy of LOVELESS. 

“As usual, he pushed his body too far earlier,” he mused, setting the last cup on the counter to cook.

“Well, at least...it was for a _better_ reason this time,” Zack noted.

“True. I must admit, it was...rather fun.” Angeal glanced at his wing, flexing the muscles slightly at the memory of carefree flight.

Meanwhile, Cissnei had to bite her lip to suppress a squeak. Poking out from behind the older SOLDIER’s large wing was a _tiny baby one_. She’d _never_ noticed it before.

Zack saw exactly what she was looking at, but Angeal could only stare at the pair of them with bemusement.

“What, have I grown a second head?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, no, no,” Cissnei looked away in shyness. “You just...have two wings. I didn’t know.”

“One big boy and one teeny tiny fella that’s _adorable,_” Zack breathed, cheek glinting in his eyes. He’d been wanting to tease Angeal about this _for months_. Before the older man could protest, his young student nearly pounced on him in an attempt to needlessly fluff his secondary wing. “_It’s so damn cute lemme fluff it upppp-”_

_Whump!_

Zack felt himself thrown onto his backside as Angeal’s larger wing smacked him away. He had once again forgotten something so soft could pack a punch.

He looked sheepishly up at his mentor, who merely regarded him with a wry smile. 

“Try that again and you’ll meet my knuckles too, pup,” he laughed, offering Zack a hand. As he pulled him up, he saw Cissnei still regarding him with honest curiosity. 

“If you don’t mind me saying,” she murmured, “they’re lovely. Both of them.” 

“What, my wings?” Angeal unfolded them slightly, feeling unexpectedly proud. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

Cissnei considered her next question carefully. She felt it had to be very personal...but she doubted Angeal would try and turn it into _flirtatious banter._

“Angeal,” she started, wording her question with greater care this time, “what does...flying feel like? To you?”

At first, the white-winged SOLDIER regarded her with something that looked like sternness, when in fact, he was merely deep in thought. Thankfully, his expression softened, and Cissnei relaxed slightly.

“Had you asked me this morning,” he began, surprised at his shift in views, “my answer would have been rather different.”

Cissnei frowned in thought, considering how she had seen both himself and Genesis swooping after each other with snowballs_. Did..._Genesis_ help him, somehow? How curious. That’s selfless for someone like him. _Despite her whirring mind, she nodded for him to continue.

“Flying...is an unexpected blessing,” Angeal pondered, his eyes gazing toward the ceiling. “From all that my situation has dealt me, I now feel...it’s the world’s way of showing me a little bit of kindness. Also,” he continued, seeing her clearly unsatisfied with his psychological spiel, “flying dreams don’t have _anything_ on the real deal.”

“You-, no, _both_ of you are very lucky,” she whispered, the ghost of black feathers on her hands making her heart ache. She offered him a warm but slightly sad smile. “Thank you for your words.”

“And thank you for your admiration,” Angeal bowed his head slightly, offering her a warm, genuine smile in return.

“Grub’s up, gang!”

Everyone turned to see Zack shaking the last of a flavour sachet into one of several steaming cups of goodness. He turned around, beaming with pride. “Dig in and enjoy a Zack Fair original.”

“Instant noodles,” Cissnei smiled, claiming her dinner, “why am I not surprised?”

“Every chef needs a signature dish,” Zack tutted, earning an eye-roll from Angeal as he grabbed two cups. He leaned over towards her. “Don’t worry, I’ll feed the flirty _drama queen._”

Zack then stepped over to Genesis, who was now nose-deep in his beloved poetry tome. He coughed loudly.

“Can’t you see I’m-” Genesis started, only to catch himself mid-sentence when he saw food presented. “Ah, my apologies. Thank you.” 

“Damn straight,” Zack grinned, pleased at how his new friend was trying to exercise his manners. He moved to sit down, but changed his mind so rapidly that noodles nearly sloshed everywhere. “Ah, that’s right - chopsticks!”

“You mention extra cutlery _now?_” Angeal quipped, having just cleaned the only fork in sight.

“Dude, you can’t slice eggs with chopsticks,” the younger man laughed, scrounging the bottom of the paper bags. Having retrieved his prize, he ripped open the packet with his teeth and spilled them on the coffee table. 

“Just...just buy plastic knives and forks next time, okay?” His mentor shook his head with a chuckle. Whilst he admired his student’s maturity and resourcefulness in some areas, Zack sometimes missed the obvious. 

“If we’re still here this time tomorrow,” Zack slurped, “I’ll take another excursion with Cobalt.”

Meanwhile, Genesis released a quiet sigh, setting his dinner on the coffee table. Despite knowing he needed food, his stomach had begun to knot in nervous protest. 

_“Even if the morrow is barren of promises…”_ he whispered, attempting to calm himself. 

However, the room became unexpectedly quiet; there wasn’t a single sound of noodle consumption. Genesis examined his companions and found them giving him almost expectant looks. He raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.

From his position on the stool, Angeal broke the silence. “You _never_ leave that line unfinished.”

“It seems...” the redhead began, the realisation sinking in, “...that I may not trust how it ends.” He looked down in an attempt to disguise his true anxiety regarding the morrow’s risks. 

_“...nothing shall forestall my return.”_

Genesis immediately looked to Cissnei, who had taken the liberty of finishing the famous line. She met his gaze with unwaveringly fierce determination before looking between both Angeal and Zack with the same expression.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to secure Sephiroth’s help.” Cissnei regarded the rogue SOLDIERs with steely confidence. “We mustn’t leave room for doubt - and I’m going to help you as much as I can.”

Zack looked at her with excited shock. “Does that mean you’re officially joining us?”

“Yes - by becoming a double agent,” she replied with a smirk. “Like Director Lazard.” 

“Be certain of your choice,” Genesis cautioned, a grim look shadowing his features. “If they discover you, you’re dead.”

Cissnei felt the urge to retaliate at that; she _never_ settled for being made less of, particularly if it alluded to her size or gender. However, the redhead’s look of true concern made her pause.

“I say it not to belittle you,” he added, reading her shifting expressions. “I just can’t bear causing _more people_ to die for my grossly selfish cause.”

She regarded him with compassion. “My certainty has grown ever since I saw what happened to you at Modeoheim. ShinRa’s cruelty ends _here._” 

“Well, since I can’t convince you otherwise,” Genesis replied, his voice growing soft, “all I can do is thank you.” 

Angeal set down his now empty cup and smiled at her. “We truly appreciate this, Cissnei.”

She offered a shy smile before her features became resolute once more. “Okay. What are tomorrow’s exact plans?”

“It’s...fairly loose,” Zack chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Me and Cobalt are going to intercept Sephiroth once he arrives. Basically, Cobalt-” he swallowed nervously, “-is the bait. Hopefully me popping out of the snow is going to distract him enough to talk.”

“You have no idea where he’s even landing though,” Cissnei mused. She was starting to realise how things might’ve gone south without her foreknowledge. 

“Angeal was going to scout the mountains,” Zack mumbled, trying to save his now dwindling pride. “And text me updates.”

Cissnei tipped her head in thought. “That _does _make sense, I suppose… I think I’m better suited for that role though. I’ll keep ShinRa happy by performing my Sephiroth surveillance duties, but I can also relay his movements to you directly.”

“Ah, that’s perfect,” Angeal interjected, “that way I can focus on being Zack’s backup, should things go...badly. It also minimises the risk of me _not_ finding Sephiroth in time.”

“I’ll relay updates via Lazard, since I can’t give myself away by texting Zack,” she replied, nodding with growing confidence. “All that leaves is...preventing Sephiroth from reacting poorly.”

“We just need to get him to come here and sit down over a cup of tea or something,” Zack muttered, his mind whirring. “And we’ll need to be _completely_ honest with him.”

“And _vulnerable,_” Genesis mumbled. He _hated_ feeling so powerless in all this…

“That’s how friendships are forged,” Angeal assured. He looked at the redhead with a comforting smile. “And...it’s how friendships are _repaired.”_

“Then may the goddess cast her favour on us tomorrow,” Genesis replied quietly. He reached for his dinner again. Hunger, it seemed, had finally won the emotional battle in his stomach. For now.

Cissnei regarded the three rogue SOLDIERs. “It’s settled, then. I’ll update you on Sephiroth as soon as he-”

_Bzzzzzzt!_

Zack yelped in surprise as his pocket vibrated. “Oh, sweet, that’s gotta be Aerith!” He gulped down the last of his food before rummaging for his PHS to check the message.

Cissnei, suitably interrupted, merely shook her head in amusement. However, her expression quickly turned to one of confusion as she saw worry crease Zack’s brow.

“Oh, um...I think this is for you, Gen,” the younger man mumbled, thumbing through the message attachment. “There’s a whole bunch of names here from Lazard.”

“...ah,” Genesis breathed, his chest tightening. “That will be the list I asked for.”

Zack analysed the message more closely, now seeing SOLDIER ranks listed beside each name. His eyes narrowed. “...a list of what?”

“SOLDIERs who…” the redhead sucked in a breath, closing his eyes with regret, “...who became my copies.”

“_Oh.”_

Genesis saw the questions swimming in Zack’s concerned eyes. “I wish to honour them. May I borrow your PHS so I can write them down?”

“Yeah, of course,” Zack whispered, gingerly handing the device to Genesis. The black-winged SOLDIER nodded in thanks, retreating to the bed proper with a pen and LOVELESS in hand. 

Cissnei observed the scene with sadness, and suddenly felt...very out of place. “I...I should probably go,” she mumbled.

“This late, in _that _weather?” Angeal raised an eyebrow and almost tried to stop Cissnei as she stood up and stretched. 

She offered a grim smile. “I’m a Turk. I’ll manage.”

_Tap tap tap tap tap-_

“What the-?” Zack started, his heart leaping inside his chest. However, the tension was quickly broken by his burst of laughter as he, Angeal and Cissnei turned to see Cobalt’s bubbly expression in the window. The griffon tapped his beak on the glass again and stared at Cissnei intently.

“I think… I think he’s offering you a ride,” Angeal mused, trying to decipher the griffon’s emotions. Cobalt chirped in eagerness. 

“Still not done apologising, are we?” Cissnei leaned into the window to make a face at the birdlion. He tapped right where her nose was and seemed to make a purring sound. 

“Well, if he’s offering,” she mused, moving to grab her belongings. “It’ll be a much quicker ride to Icicle Inn.”

“Cobalt’s a great flyer,” Zack chimed. He tapped Cissnei’s shoulder, and as she turned, he trapped her in a hug before she could protest. “Just don’t keep him. And stay safe.”

She patted Zack’s back in return before ending the embrace. “Don’t worry, I’ll send him straight back here.” 

He grinned, and pointed a finger at her. “You better.”

Cissnei just winked at him while she wriggled into her hiking jacket. “Keep warm, stay safe and get restful sleep, boys.” She then looked pointedly at Genesis, who had momentarily paused writing. “_Especially_ you.”

“I’ll try,” he murmured, offering a slight smile. Meanwhile, Cissnei had to hide her surprise; she was honestly expecting some kind of snarky reply, and instantly regretted this assumption. She managed a nod in return.

Angeal moved to open the door for her. “I’ve told Cobalt where to go. All you need to do is hold on tight.”

“How did you- _oh_,” Cissnei stopped herself, realising the powers of copy connection. “Thank you.”

The white-winged SOLDIER gave her a reassuring smile. “Be careful.”

“I will - and I’ll see all of you tomorrow with Sephiroth on our side!” Cissnei called as she stepped into the frigid evening air. Cobalt then pranced up to her, and with an enthusiastic _whump_, plopped belly-first into the snow so she could get on.

Cissnei felt her heart pounding. Apart from her horror experience earlier, she’d never come this close to flying with..._wings _before. It was incredible.

However, the griffon’s insistent trills broke her mesmerised thoughts.

“No more dreaming,” Cissnei whispered softly. Slowly, she eased herself onto Cobalt’s back, careful to avoid disturbing his huge wings as she secured herself.

“It’s time to _fly_.”

As if on cue, Cobalt leaped into a bounding run, beating his wings with force to catch an updraft. Cissnei gasped in wonder and she felt her stomach drop the moment they left gravity behind. She watched his wings working, seeing every feather adjustment he made to traverse the air, and she just _grinned_. 

Cobalt, sensing her mood, added to the atmosphere with a loud, joyous chirp. A few powerful wing strokes later, and the pair of Turk and griffon found themselves soaring over the mountaintops into a rapidly darkening sky.

For once in her life, Cissnei laughed with abandon...and tossed all her worries to the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ugh, again with the sloooww updates from me! I’m very sorry. I once again had a few pesky patches of writer’s block.
> 
> Also, I absolutely promise nothing else happens between Genesis and Cissnei. I will admit I am a diehard shipper of them, but this story has always been about close platonic friendships, and I plan to keep it that way. It was just...too difficult to resist the teensiest bit of flirting. :P Pleasedon’tkillme. 
> 
> Also, this kind of turned into a Cissnei-centric chapter. But it was really fun cementing her role in the story and exploring her character - she’s absolutely my favourite Turk. Must be the wings thing, haha.
> 
> Okay, enough rambling! Things will really start picking up in the next chapter, so get excited!
> 
> Ah, also - new summary, because the old one sucked.
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a AutumnalBlep
> 
> Disclaimer: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and all characters therein belong to Square Enix.


	9. Breaking Down

It was 6:30 in the freaking _morning,_ and already this day was shaping up to be the wildest in Cloud Strife’s _entire life._

Okay, sure. Getting smacked about by a fat scientist and a one-winged ex-SOLDIER and losing a new-found friend a few days ago had been weird, traumatic, and decidedly awful.

But _now_ he was on a helicopter w_ith General Sephiroth_.

And he was desperately trying to hide how nervous he was. 

Honestly, Cloud had truly meant to make _something_ of himself before meeting his childhood hero. Like actually _becoming_ a SOLDIER. At the very _least_.

And yet, here he was, a lowly infantry grunt, with nothing to his name other than being known as ‘that aggressive antisocial kid from Nibelheim.’ 

But, despite this reputation, he’d _finally _made a friend ...only to have the universe give him the middle finger and kill him before they’d even had a chance to bond. _Serves me right... I _was _a dick to Tifa’s friends, after all..._

Cloud resisted the urge to shake his head at himself. He _had_ to keep it together. He wouldn’t dare show weakness in front of General Sephiroth. 

From across the helicopter’s hold, the silver General sat with poise and attention, yet his eyes were closed and his hands rested on his lap, almost as if he were in some sort of meditative state. However, the microscopic sounds of shifting leather caught his attention.

Slowly, Sephiroth cracked a catlike eye open to observe the nervous fidgeting hands of the infantryman before him.

For once in his life, he decided to probe. He had to pass this excruciating helicopter ride _somehow_…

“Is something troubling you, cadet?”

Sephiroth observed the familiar jolt of nervous surprise ripple up the grunt’s spine as his helmeted gaze snapped to meet his own.

Cloud’s hands froze in place. _Damn it._

“N-no, sir,” he stammered, cursing at his own feebleness. “Well, not...not really…”

Sephiroth’s brows creased in growing concern as the realisation dawned on him. No _wonder_ he found it so difficult to hold a meaningful conversation with anyone besides a select few. His very presence and rank struck nervousness and apprehension into _anyone _he spoke with. 

This poor cadet; he was probably sweating buckets being stuck in a reasonably small space with him. And by this point, Sephiroth was _tired_ of being the cause. He learned forward in his seat and regarded the infantryman with a curious expression.

“What’s your name?”

Cloud swallowed nervously at the request. _Oh god. Is he interrogating me?_ _I’m just a backwater kid from the mountains! I’m not important!_

“Cloud Strife, s-sir.”

“Please, remove your helmet,” Sephiroth gestured, attempting to sound reassuring.

“But sir, I can’t...I’m on duty.” 

“My mission, my rules,” the older man replied, tipping his head in a half-smile. “And that’s the last order I want you obeying until we land. I wish to converse not as military personnel... but as _people.”_

Behind his visor, Cloud blinked in utter shock. Was this some kind of bizarre mako-induced hallucination? Was he actually in the middle of another attempt at joining SOLDIER, and failing _miserably? _

“That’s an _order_,” Sephiroth repeated, looking expectant. 

With hesitation, Cloud gingerly removed his helmet and shook his head to readjust his messy blonde spikes. 

The silver General felt grief pinch his heart. That spiky hair had him immediately thinking of Zack... 

The young infantryman looked back to Sephiroth, and to his surprise, saw _sadness_ on his normally stoic face. _Seriously, how badly am I mako tripping?_

Sephiroth closed his eyes a moment to settle his thoughts, then resumed his original plan of throwing SOLDIER ranks out the window.

“What’s troubling you, Cloud? Is it my presence?”

“_No_,” Cloud blurted with insistence, his cheeks growing red. “I...I lost a friend on a mission recently.” He ducked his head in shyness at this admission.

“May I ask who?” Sephiroth started, trying to keep the usual threat of authority out of his voice. It was proving surprisingly difficult to suppress his ingrained habits.

“A SOLDIER...his...his name was Zack.”

The older man felt his chest tighten with empathy. He had had his suspicions, given what Lazard had mentioned, but he felt unexpectedly relieved to hear it first-hand.

“That is a loss we both share,” Sephiroth murmured. He watched with rueful curiosity to see the cadet’s reaction. 

_Zack...he was _friends_ with Sephiroth!?_

Cloud felt a sharp pain shoot through his arm before realising he was _pinching_ himself. Normally, this was a fantastic technique to jolt oneself from mako-induced insanity, but right now he feared he looked utterly stupid. _Stop it, idiot._ _You’re not hallucinating. _

And with that firmly decided, he felt unwanted grief swimming through him. Sephiroth was here,_ right in front of him_, and now he was trying so damn hard not to lose it. 

“It’s..._not fair,_” Cloud whispered, fleeting memories of Zack bounding ahead of him in the snow dancing through his mind. He then turned his face away at the mortifying sensation of hot, unwelcome tears pricking the corner of his eyes. _Shit! Pull it together, man! Not in front of Sephir-_

“No. It _isn’t_.” 

_That- that tone of voice… _

Curiosity promptly kicked embarrassment away, and Cloud hastily rubbed a sweaty arm across his eyes as he turned to look back at Sephiroth. 

“Don’t mask your tears,” Sephiroth breathed, surprised at the foreign sensation of dampness in his own eyes. “In mourning, we..._honour_ the fallen.”

The young cadet stared in astonishment at the silver General. _If only those other asshole grunts could hear what I’m hearing...pfff, but they’d never believe me if I told them _Sephiroth_ gave me permission to _cry.

“But...they make me feel _weak,”_ Cloud mumbled with a small, hesitant voice. 

“To hell with that.” Sephiroth’s voice was clipped, but his expression betrayed such aggression. “For too long men like us have suppressed and crushed our emotions in the name of ‘strength.’”

The blonde infantryman’s eyes went wide as saucers. _Oh my god. His eyes are wet. Sephiroth is...he’s…_

“I...have lost too many friends as of late,” the silver General whispered, his normally calm, level voice beginning to waver. “Grieving is my right...and it’s yours, too.”

Cloud dropped his gaze, and then found his vision growing hazy and indistinct from tears. 

“Zack didn’t...he didn’t deserve this,” Cloud faltered. A breath later, and his shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs. Despite this, he dared to look Sephiroth in the eyes. He knew the General’s pain had to be worse than his own. “And, sir...I’m sorry for Commander Hewley and Commander Rhapsodos...I didn’t really know them, and things were really complicated…but...”

At those words, Sephiroth felt his chest tighten. Out of habit or unwanted shame - he wasn’t sure - he instinctively turned his face away, somewhat hoping his silver bangs would hide his true sorrow.

“Be I close friend or General, in the end, I couldn’t figure them out,” he mumbled bitterly, suppressing a flinch at the rogue tear that slipped off his chin. “Perhaps...that was my problem.”

Cloud looked at him with sad, confused bewilderment. “Huh?”

“From boyhood, I have been trained to be a cold, calculated killing machine,” Sephiroth began, the words tasting sour as he spoke. Despite knowing this throughout his life, this was the first time it had _truly_ churned his stomach. 

“I am the epitome of a stoic, cold and fearless leader in the heat of battle. I approached my predicament with Genesis and Angeal with unfeeling military precision, when in fact...emotional tact may have saved them.” He lowered his head into his hands, and took a deep, shaky breath. “No wonder I infuriated Genesis so…”

“Hey-hey, Sephiroth- don’t blame yourself,” Cloud stammered. _Damn. _How the hell was he meant to_ comfort_ the General!? He was barely dealing with his own emotions as it was…

A turbulent storm of emotion swirled throughout the General’s mind. In their deaths, he felt responsible, but if somehow they lived on, would he have moved to taking the blame? 

_Anger. Betrayal. Abandonment. Raw, biting pain._ How could he so easily ignore emotions that had been his companions for years? In death did one subconsciously find their eyes gazing through rose-coloured glasses towards the deceased?

Perhaps he just had to learn that emotions flowed like river rapids, constantly shifting, always changing in form...yet none out of place, despite the chaos. Oh, how he wished he had known his mother for guidance in these matters...

Sephiroth released a heavy sigh. “Emotions are perplexing beasts, yet...core to the human experience. I suppose regret is merely one of many feelings my mind is wrestling with.”

Cloud gave a hesitant nod, sniffing in the aftermath of tears. 

“Cloud,” Sephiroth murmured, “thank you for being so honest with me.”

“Oh, um...sure,” Cloud mumbled, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Thanks for treating me like a person.”

The silver General had to suppress a sad chuckle. Despite his initial amusement, that statement was a testimony to how much of a culture shift he had to encourage amongst the troops.

“As it should be,” he replied. “I’ll be having a word with both Lazard and Heidegger about the company’s military interpersonal relationships and rank hierarchies…”

Cloud bowed his head in thanks and found himself instinctively reaching for his helmet. Surely he should go back to being invisible after all that...

“I’m not done treating you ‘like a person’,” Sephiroth quipped. “We’ve still got 7 hours to go. Tell me a bit about yourself.”

The blonde infantryman gingerly set his helmet back down again. 

He’d never imagined the legendary SOLDIER First to be so _talkative._

It was only 7:00 in the freaking _morning,_ and somehow, Cloud Strife was convinced he’d _broken_ General Sephiroth.

* * *

_Tidal memories  
_ _The emerald undertow   
_ _Souls travelling home_

A thousand whispers, facets of identities lost, mingling, merging, melding. 

Broken and twisted, a voice breaks rank. _“This is what you’ve done_.”

Shards of glass feathers shatter, reflecting hundreds of stolen lives.

Each jagged mirror of a man howls in anguish, minds masked, selves silenced. A cascade of monsters masquerading as men remains; mere echoes of existence. 

“_This is who you are.”_

Glimmering fragments explode on impact, scattering across a malachite floor.

A mosaic forms; a terrifying montage of a man in red, silver-streaked and dying, with the smirk of a madman.

_“And this is what you will become.”_

In a flash of bladed steel, everything turns crimson.

_“A monster, rightfully slaughtered.”_

The mirrored melange shifts to a new design; a landscape of fallen friends, each bleeding out from the blade of a-

_“No!”_

A ragged, gasping breath ripped through the peaceful silence of sleep blanketing the cosy cabin. Genesis lurched upwards in bed, frail heart hammering inside of him as nightmarish fragments slowly peeled from his psyche. 

Instinctively, he did a headcount. Much to his relief, Zack was still nestled underneath Angeal’s wings on the sofa, whilst the other man reclined in slumber. Their resident prisoner, thankfully, hadn’t budged an inch. 

Fear subsiding, Genesis took a long, slow breath, and gingerly eased himself back onto the mattress. He closed his shadowed eyes and let the gentle sounds of breathing lull his racing mind. However, as he relaxed, he felt an obtrusive lump awkwardly prodding into his side. He suppressed a growl in irritation as he shifted sideways to remove it.

Genesis then found himself holding LOVELESS towards dawn light speckling the foggy windows.

“How disrespectful of me,” he chastised, dusting his precious tome and setting it on the weathered bedside table. 

Well, at least he _thought_ that’s where he’d put it. Obviously, a resounding _thwump _against the floorboards proved him otherwise.

“Damn it,” he hissed with irritation, and rolled onto his stomach in an attempt to extend his reach. After claiming his prize, he secured it part-way under the pillow with frustrated insistence.

It was then he saw names, carefully lettered by his own hand, bordering the pages.

Genesis clenched his teeth, his tired heart squeezing.

No wonder his brain had conjured up such material. He must have fallen asleep soon after finishing his lamentable task. 

If nothing else, at least he’d leave the world with a written testimony of his regret. 

_“To the trusting men I twisted in my own image, to the family I destroyed in bloodshed, to the friendships I threw to the wind, and to all I sinned against along the journey, I say with the heaviest of regrets...I am truly sorry.”_

These words, the opening statement to his written memorial, rippled to the surface in his mind.

If by some goddess-given miracle they survived this day, this well-worn copy of LOVELESS would be a constant motivator to atone for his atrocities. Unlike his wing, which was forced upon him by Jenova, Genesis had consciously _chosen_ this guilty reminder...and he hoped that counted for something.

At these thoughts, he noticed a pressing itch irritating the feathers by his shoulder. As he reached around to scratch, he recoiled at the sensation of damp, clammy fabric clinging to his skin. _Remnants of a night sweat. How delightful._

Suddenly, Genesis found himself seized by the urge to bathe. Whether it was because of the guilt crawling under his skin or the sweat-drenched clothes - or both - he had to _at least_ face what could be his final day with dignity.

Besides - there was no way in _hell_ he’d ever fall back to sleep _now._ Already his mind was starting to race. With nervous energy, he swung his legs over the mattress, taking care not to bump his companions with a misplaced wing as he stretched.

Once he had rubbed the sleep from his shadowy eyes, he seized a Fire materia from his bracer and quietly padded to the chilly bathroom. 

Carefully, Genesis clicked the door shut, and then set to work on removing his shirt. As he went to gather the fabric and pull, he saw rusty brown marring his fingers. He suppressed a quiet growl.

_Damn it. Not again._

He released a long, defeated sigh, bundled up his faithful shirt, and tossed it into the bathtub for cleaning. His broken reflection in the damaged mirror loomed back at him, smudges of dried blood crusted around his cracked torso and shoulders.

“If only furious scrubbing could erase all of..._this,”_ he lamented with a whisper, looking beyond his fractured body and into his own mirrored gaze. An expression etched with sorrowful exhaustion and guilt stared back.

_One thing at a time, my friend._

Angeal’s sage advice echoed in his mind; a memory of one of many instances his friend had tried to calm his nerves recently.

Genesis closed his eyes, and found himself conjuring an image of his childhood friend standing nearby with a gentle expression.

_“First, the shirt,”_ figment-Angeal encouraged. _“Give it a wash, and hang it over the towel rail. Then, take a bath. Everything else is irrelevant right now_._”_

The degrading SOLDIER nodded slowly to himself, as if acknowledging the advice offered by his imagined companion. Angeal, even as a figment of his mind, was right.

_One thing at a time. There’s no other way to survive this terrifying day._

A minute later, Genesis found himself mesmerised by the blood swirling from his shirt as it bobbed around in the water. Despite the regularity of this ritual, he found his mind wandering through a memory he’d rather forget. 

It had been the night after the injury. 

Whether it was the late hour or the pain; he wasn’t sure - but in the haze, he’d habitually gone to soak his shirt, as was normal after suffering bloodstains. 

However, he failed to realise this was a pointless exercise.

The shirt was ripped beyond repair. He had at least four other _identical shirts._ It should have gone to the _garbage,_ for Minerva’s sake…

A buzzing had then interrupted his frustrated realisation.

“Leave me _be, _Angeal,” he had hissed under his breath as he slipped his PHS out.

It _wasn’t_ Angeal - and that surprised him, given that he’d collected about 10 missed calls from the man in the past few hours.

In actuality, _Sephiroth_ was calling him. 

The _great_ General, trying to one-up him _again_.

“_Damn_ you,” Genesis spat with disgust. He deliberately rejected the call and almost hurled the device across the apartment in anger. 

As he performed the same shirt soaking activity a year later, rage, it seemed...had been replaced by anguished regret.

He _really_ should have answered that call. 

It was prior to Hollander’s wretched revelations the next morning. The damage could have been prevented; the tentative friendship repaired.

_If only-_

Genesis sucked in a breath, pushing his emotions down as his hands scrubbed the fading fabric. “One..._thing_...at a time.”

Sorrowful apologies belonged to the afternoon, and he truly hoped he- no, _they_\- would make it that far.

He _owed_ his former friend that much.

* * *

_Bang bang bang!_

“Hurry up man, I’ve gotta _pee!_” Zack anxiously hopped from foot to foot, fruitlessly praying for the bathroom door handle to twist open. 

“_Goddess,_ let a man dress himself first!” He heard Genesis’ terse voice, muffled by the door, chastise him in reply.

“We’re all _men_ here!” Zack whimpered in desperation. He didn’t care _what_ he saw; he just needed to _go_. His poor bladder was ready to explo-

“Zack,” Angeal yawned, eyeing his former pupil from the sofa, “patience.”

“I know, I know- but I swear he’s been in there since-”

Suddenly the door swung open, shaking on the hinges, and Zack nearly fell straight into a suitably irritated redhead. Thankfully, his enhanced reflexes enabled him to scoot away in time.

“Ack, sorry,” the younger SOLDIER stammered. He tried to meet the other man’s gaze with a sheepish expression. 

Genesis disregarded him and walked past without a word, knowing full well both men were now staring at him in shock.

Well, his upper torso _did_ look like a battlefield.

“Please, excuse my missing shirt,” he began, mock-apology lacing his words with sarcasm. “_Someone_ wouldn’t let me dry it.”

Zack, suitably embarrassed, merely ducked his head in shame and scampered into the bathroom. He clicked the door shut with barely a sound.

Angeal watched Genesis slowly make his way to the fireplace. As the redhead appeared to concentrate his mana, he absentmindedly ruffled his feathers, shook out his wing and sent water droplets flying.

He remained in concentration for another minute, furiously trying to revitalise the fire. In the end, Genesis growled in defeat, and looked over at his friend pleadingly.

“Save your strength - I’ll handle that,” Angeal murmured, smiling gently. He hadn’t wanted to damage his friend’s pride on a day like this, but watching Genesis struggle was rather painful. 

“How foolish of me,” the degrading SOLDIER lamented, taking his place on the edge of the stool. Slowly, he unfurled his wing to dry in the growing heat of the flames and then spread his shirt on the coffee table to do the same. “I burned through all my mana in bathing, it seems.”

“Zack can fix that - he’s well stocked in ethers,” Angeal replied, making his way to the bathroom. He focused on the door with a knowing look in his eyes.

_Bang bang bang!_

“Hurry up in there! I need to _bathe!_”

“Oh, ha _ha_,” Zack replied from behind the door, his voice distorted by running water. The older SOLDIER narrowed his eyes. Something about Zack’s tone was..._off_.

Moments later the door opened, and Zack hesitantly stepped out. Before Angeal could claim the bathroom for himself, his former student motioned him to look down. There, in Zack’s hands, was a mass of grey-black feather fluff.

“Is he doing okay?” Zack whispered, looking over at the silhouette of Genesis in the fireplace. “I mean, I know he moults, but… there’s _way_ more where that came from.”

Angeal glanced at his old friend. Genesis was staring listlessly into the fire, light glinting from the shiny, puckered scars running across his torso.

“No, I don’t think he is,” he replied, voice low. “Keep an eye on him while I clean up, would you?”

Zack nodded, his tone serious. “Way ahead of you.” 

His former mentor nodded in approval and was about to shut the door, but suddenly paused midway. He patted his thighs in brief confusion before finding the right pocket.

“Aha,” he mumbled, claiming Hollander’s ex-PHS. “Do you have that materia charger on you?”

“_Obviously_,” Zack chortled, taking the device. “I never go without it on missions like this. Don’t worry; I’ll give it some juice.”

“Thanks,” Angeal sighed, finally claiming the bathroom for himself. 

As Zack picked his way back to the sofa, he cautiously took a glance at Genesis. The redhead hadn’t budged an inch, save for the slight waver in his wing as he kept it unfurled. Judging by his closed eyes and subtle frown, Zack decided to keep out of his feathers for now.

He sank into the sofa and flicked his PHS open to check the battery level. Satisfied with the percentage, Zack unplugged his own phone and replaced it with the one from Angeal. He then cupped his hands around the charger’s Lightning materia slot and bowed his head to focus. A soft glow glimmered to life in his fingers.

Ordinarily, he could activate it and then leave it for the rest of the night to charge. Rapid charging was rarely worth it and was an inefficient drain on one’s mana reserves.

But he knew how important this day was. They _couldn’t_ fail.

And so, the normally restless and excitable SOLDIER remained perfectly still in concentration. 

For the next half an hour, only the crackling of fire, the tingle of magic and soft breathing broke the silence. 

Then, out of nowhere, a frivolous chime disturbed the air. Zack’s eyes shot open in confusion, but his expression relaxed when he realised the PHS was fully charged. The unwelcome noise was just as well; he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

“Time for my morning joe,” he chuckled to himself, and pulled out an ether. He drank it in one swift gulp and immediately felt energy rippling through his body. 

Meanwhile, Genesis’s mind was suitably dragged back into reality by the sudden sounds behind him. He had been delightfully lost in LOVELESS theories as a means to distract himself. However, the _clink_ of a glass bottle on the coffee table reminded him of something. 

He turned his body slightly. “Zack, do you...have any spare ethers?”

“Oh, _do I!_” Zack leapt to his feet, trying to suppress the energy that was now pumping him up. “Man, I’ve got ethers for _days._ Here.” He hopped over to where Genesis was, edged around his feathers, then ceremoniously plonked a bottle in the redhead’s hands.

Zack’s tone then turned serious, and he leaned down a little to make better eye contact.

“Hey, sorry about before...you doing okay?”

Genesis stared down at the ether, thumbing it between his fingers. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve offered some sort of witty come back…but now, he was afraid to even _talk_. A heaviness lurked about his chest, an unwelcome lump had settled in his throat, and heavens, he felt _so hot…_

Zack stepped back in courtesy as Genesis raised a ‘one moment’ hand gesture at him. With a shaky breath, he slowly folded his now toasty-warm feathers, fanning them a little to dissipate some of the excess heat. Then, he steeled himself, and rapidly drank the ether Zack had given him. The tightness in his throat made this exceptionally difficult and he nearly gagged, but the tingle of magic-laden energy was worth it.

“No, I’m not,” Genesis eventually replied, his voice small. Despite this, he gritted his teeth and slowly began to stand. Once upright, he claimed his shirt and slipped it over his head.

“Is there...anyway I can help?” Zack questioned tentatively as he watched the other man struggle with the buttons again. “Should I fix some breakfast?”

Genesis shook his head as he made his way back to the bed. “Not now. Can’t eat.” He was starting to worry this would become one of his particularly _bad_ degradation days…his heart was _racing_ and all he’d done was _stand up_.

“Alright then,” the young SOLDIER murmured in defeat. “Just shout if you’re hungry, okay?”

A feeble thumbs up from his fetal position on the bed was all Genesis could muster. Moments after he’d closed his eyes, he heard a gentle _thump_ on the bedside table. 

“You need water,” Zack insisted, unscrewing the water bottle’s cap. “Besides, Cissnei left this here. Be a shame not to use it.”

Genesis managed a vaguely amused huff, and wordlessly propped himself up for a sip. At least water wasn’t a bad substance to vomit, should he deteriorate further. “Thank you, mother.”

The other SOLDIER snorted and grinned with relief. “The sass queen lives. There’s hope for you yet.”

“Perhaps,” came the redhead’s quiet reply, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Much to his relief, Zack didn’t probe him further, and instead began quietly humming to himself as he went to make some toast. Now, with no one watching him, Genesis hoped maintaining a calm facade would be far easier…

The minutes passed in silence as Zack hovered a piece of bread over the fireplace using a stick Cobalt had found the day prior. In his other hand, he clumsily tried to compose a text message to Aerith.

_“Hey. Got any tips for helping a friend face impending doom? :/”_

He supposed Genesis’ extremely closed-off behaviour was to be expected; they were about to confront _Sephiroth_ of all people, but still...there had to be _something_ he could do… 

_“Normally, I’d try a hug… but I don’t think that would work for Genesis,” _came Aerith’s surprisingly quick reply. As he scanned the message, the faint tinge of smoke brushed his nostrils and he instinctively pulled the stick back. He balanced the hot toast on his knees.

_“You’d be surprised, but right now, that’s true,”_ Zack responded. He then eagerly slathered his toast in ordinary raspberry jam. Despite how much the cinnamon Banora White variety tempted him, he wanted Genesis to properly enjoy it once he was cured - which was going to be in days. He was _sure_ of it.

Meanwhile, despite having crawled out of bed herself, Aerith was sorely tempted to return. Her stomach had been in knots for hours, and her mind was racing...and she had no idea _why_. 

Maybe she was just worried about Zack. 

That had to be it - today was risky for him and his friends. _Very_ risky. 

Still, she could almost _feel_ currents of the Lifestream itself probing her with worrisome thoughts… and there were images, too. Vague and frightening shadows of masked men in red, howling in pain...and a long, thin blade, smeared with…

Aerith shook her head. Where in the _world_ was her mind getting that from!?

_“Stay close, and listen if he needs to talk,” _she typed, wishing she felt more comfortable to do the same with her adoptive mother. She _hated_ getting visions like this. Elmyra tried her best - she really did - but disturbing stuff was...really hard to talk about. 

_“Damn. I was hoping for something more practical. I’ve been still for _way too long_ already,_” Zack groaned to himself between toast bites. 

Aerith considered the Planet’s irritatingly vague impressions in her brain. The figures she saw. Some of them...had wings. But just one.

And that blade...it was a katana… 

Was her vision somehow...related to _Genesis? _

The images in her mind certainly left her afraid. If she saw _Sephiroth_ in that moment she would’ve jumped right out of her skin. Somehow, the anxiety of Genesis was reaching through the Planet’s energy and making her emotions mirror his...so what would help _her_ feel better?

_“Maybe...a distraction! He’s probably terrified and trying to hide it.”_

Zack nodded in approval as he took his final toast bite. _“Wow. That might actually work. Your wisdom astounds me, fair Cetra!”_

Aerith let out a frustrated sigh. She still felt rooted in place with senseless panic that seemed to be rising. _“More like your friend is emoting so damn hard that I can feel it!”_

Zack froze in surprise._ “Wait. Really??”_

_“The Planet is tormenting me with images of one-winged guys in pain and Sephiroth’s famous sword covered in blood, so yes, I think so. :(“_

_“Holy hell, Aerith... I’ll get on that distraction idea stat. Can’t have two people I care about freaking out like this.”_

_“Thank you…” _Aerith began, considering her next move. Maybe she could scrub the Lifestream’s irritating worries from her mind with that nice scented soap Mum had gotten for her birthday... _“Okay. I’m off to take a shower - let me know how he goes. Love you, x.”_

As if on cue, the bathroom door slowly creaked open, and a squeaky-clean Angeal made his way into the tiny living area. He gave Genesis a worried glance before turning back to his former student. Zack gestured for him to hold on, and his fingers rapidly composed a goodbye message to Aerith. _“Will do - I love you too.”_

Angeal sat on the sofa’s edge, and, just like Genesis had done, gradually extended his brilliant wing into the fire’s warmth. He discreetly motioned for Zack to come closer. As his former student navigated a room full of feathers, Angeal cast Sleep once again over Hollander, who at this point had been comatose for over a day.

He kept his voice at a low whisper as Zack tentatively placed the stool down. “How’s Gen?”

“Tense, I think...scared, even,” Zack murmured, wincing a little as he sat. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m kind of shitting myself too, but…”

Angeal sighed quietly. “I know…same here - though I’m unfairly good at hiding it. Has he had any breakfast?”

“Nope. Said he couldn’t.”

“Ah. That bad.” 

“Yep,” Zack breathed, shaking his head. How in the _hell_ was he going to distract the man…?

“Let’s get the plan out of the way, then I can convince Genesis to have food… even if it takes me refusing to eat unless he does,” Angeal chuckled a little, but his tone was laced with sadness.

“Well, we need to wait for Cissnei’s signal,” Zack started, handing Angeal his adopted PHS. “This boy’s all charged, so when that buzzes, we move.”

“And once we encounter Sephiroth, what then?” Angeal pondered, though not directly to Zack. More like to some ephemeral entity that would never deign him an answer. 

“Beg?” Zack raised an eyebrow, almost smiling at the ridiculousness of it.

“That’s a little extreme, but you _might_ be on to something,” the older SOLDIER replied, his mind whirring. “Maybe… it’s trust. This is going to sound crazy, but… we should come unarmed. No swords. No materia. Nothing.”

“What in the-” Zack stammered, waiting to see his old mentor say ‘just kidding!’ - but such an answer never came. “...Holy shit, you’re serious.”

“Well, let’s be honest here, we wouldn’t stand a chance _with_ weapons, anyway…” 

“Hmm. True.”

“So, we get him to come here...and somehow lay bare the foundations of his entire life before him,” Angeal mumbled, bringing a hand to his forehead. 

“Well first off,” Zack started, sounding confident, “we gotta tell him Jenova isn’t his mum. Just that, some cells were...you know, injected into him...and they’re from a space alien...ah, damn it, that still sounds bad…”

_Yeah, no shit,_ Genesis grimaced from his cocoon on the bed. He was trying his best to shut the world out, but even his degradation-damaged hearing was picking up most of the conversation. Even so, the loud, rapid pulsing of his heart was trying its _damndest _to drown it out…and his head was _burning_ with a throbbing ache...and..._ ah, here comes the sweat again…_

He groaned quietly and turned his face into the old pillow.

This was going to be the longest _\- and last - _day of his life...

* * *

“Pssst.”

“…”

“Hey, Gen…” A hand gently rubbed his shoulder. 

“...mhmm…”

“Wow, you actually fell asleep,” Angeal chuckled. Genesis heard a soft clunk on the bedside table, and tendrils of apple and cinnamon wafted towards his nose. “Fixed you some toast. You _really_ need food.”

The redhead groaned and gently shook his hair from his eyes in a vague attempt to shoo away remnants of sleep. Surely he must’ve drifted off for just a _little _bit… breakfast could wait…

“...mm...what’s...time?”

Angeal caught Zack’s grimace from across the room, but in his opinion, honesty was the best policy. At least..._now_ it was.

“Er...it’s 1 PM.”

Genesis snapped his eyes open, sheer dread flooding his body. Every ounce of anxiety came rushing back, and in an instant he was half-upright in panic. Angeal sagely placed a comforting hand on his good shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

“Easy, easy…we’ve still got time,” he soothed, squeezing his friend’s trembling arm. He reached for the still steaming plate of toast. “Here. Eat.”

“No- no-, I can’t-” Genesis stammered, desperately suppressing a dry heave as he shrugged Angeal away. Heavens, what was the point of _food_? He had merely _an hour_ left _alive - _it wouldn’t do him a shred of good, he’d just throw it right back up, and feel even worse, and then Zack and Angeal would _worry_ and _they’d_ spend their _last moments_ concerned about _him_ when he didn’t even _deserve_ it because he was a _piece of shit _and _oh god they were all going to die and it was all his fault-_

Both Zack and Angeal watched with panicked concern as Genesis buried his face in his hands, violent shivers making him tremble like a leaf in the wind. With each passing moment his throat became tighter, his breaths became faster and his downy feathers puffed right out in abject panic. 

“_Shit shit shit-_” Zack cursed under his breath as his mind raced. _I need a damned distraction! He’s going to worry himself to freaking death _before_ Sephiroth even gets here!_

He rapidly bounced on the balls of his feet as his eyes desperately roamed the room for something, _anything…_until he glanced out the window, and saw a Cobalt making a beeline for the window.

_Aha!_

Without a word of explanation, Zack hastily made for the door and slipped outside. A happy whuff from Cobalt greeted him in response. 

“Hey, boy,” he whispered, scratching the chirp-purring griffon under the beak. “I think I need your help.”

Cobalt chirped with a questioning note and titled his in head expectantly, pawing the snow beneath his talons.

Zack looked him in the eyes and gave him a gentle pat on the side of his fluffy neck.

“Gen’s not doing well...he’s very scared, and needs a warm, cuddly and _calm_ distraction,” he murmured, praying Cobalt would somehow understand the nuance. Ultimately, he had no idea what Angeal’s cells had done to the griffon, but so far, the birdlion’s intelligence had far surpassed anyone’s expectations. 

Cobalt closed his eyes, lowered his feather crest, and almost _seemed_ to nod. He then made a low, soft chirp, and nuzzled his face into Zack’s hand. 

“Thanks, buddy,” Zack smiled, and with that, carefully opened the door and held it while Cobalt quietly padded inside. 

Meanwhile, poor Angeal was at a loss; Genesis was behaving as he wasn’t even _there_. He had completely curled in on himself and was slowly rocking back and forth between muffled sobs. Normally, Angeal could manage some sort of recognition from his old friend, but now, Genesis appeared to be _completely _inconsolable.

However, the sound of claws gently scraping wood in tempo made Angeal’s ears prick. _What in the…?_

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight of Cobalt gingerly entering the small cabin. Before he could say a word, he caught sight of Zack’s ‘shh!’ gesture. Suitably silenced, Angeal merely raised his hands in defeat and made room. He was willing to try _anything_ at this point.

With the softest of steps, Cobalt slowly sidled up to the bed. He examined Genesis for a moment and caught sight of wispy black feather fluff covering the mattress. At this, he released a low, sad warble and moved to push his head against the redhead’s folded wing.

Zack and Angeal waited with baited breath, hoping...no, _praying_ that Genesis would notice. 

It was only when Cobalt began to _preen_ the man that something changed.

Somewhere amongst the anxious thunderstorm clouding his mind, Genesis miraculously noticed a rather odd sensation. Something was...nibbling him? No, not that… but then what was gently manipulating his feathers…?

He chanced a furtive glance.

As soon as Cobalt locked eyes with the bewildered SOLDIER, he froze mid-preen, his tongue stuck partway. He let out a tiny squeak of surprise.

The redhead’s mind came to a complete stand-still as he watched the griffon cautiously edge away from his wing a little. Satisfied that Genesis was suitably caught off-guard, Cobalt then carefully nudged the scars on the degrading SOLDIER’s upper arm. He let out a soft, whimpering chirp of sadness.

“How…?” Genesis managed to whisper, untensing slightly. _How does this- this..._thing_ understand?_

Cobalt lowered his head, and hesitantly nuzzled his arm like a domestic cat would. He cooed softly.

“Go on, give him a pat,” Zack whispered from across the room. He was finding it awfully hard not to grin at Cobalt’s kind yet adorable behaviour.

Slowly, Genesis broke his cocoon and moved a hand from his face towards the griffon. Cobalt could barely hide his excited trill at the offer of pets, and nearly smashed his forehead into the redhead’s quivering fingers. Genesis jolted in surprise, but quickly found himself distracted again by Cobalt’s ever-growing purr as he continued to stroke his head feathers.

“Yes, yes! It’s working!” Zack breathed, beaming at Angeal. “Good ol’ pet therapy!”

“Would you look at that…” Angeal replied in quiet surprise. Genesis had never displayed a particularly keen interest in animals, let alone a once wild _griffon_… 

“Why are you so cute…?” Genesis found himself mumbling, his descent into anxiety briefly postponed. Cobalt merely chirped in joy and leaned into his now steady hand, purring with the strength of at least ten house cats. As the pets continued, his feather crest went higher and higher with appreciation. 

Then, Genesis did something shocking.

He tentatively tapped the mattress beside him in invitation, sidling over to make room.

Cobalt, despite agreeing with a happy squawk, had other ideas. He withdrew from the redhead’s careful strokes and plonked himself with determination next to the bedside table. With his beak, he nudged the toast plate towards Genesis.

Angeal had to hide his chuckle; despite being an individual, it was _clear_ Cobalt took note of his own thoughts and emotions. 

“Sorry, Gen,” he shrugged, “but it’s two against one. If you want cuddles, you’d better eat.”

Cobalt chirp-meowed with insistence, took hold of the plate’s edge with his beak, and delicately placed it on the degrading SOLDIER’s lap.

With his turbulent panic-driven anxiety interrupted, Genesis felt his hunger finally winning the battle over his nauseatingly nervous stomach. “Oh, if you _insist_,” he relented, trying to sniff his blocked nose clear in the wake of tears. 

As he took a bite of toast, Genesis could have _sworn_ he heard a collective sigh of relief from his companions.

* * *

_\- Fifteen minutes earlier -_

“Honey…are you okay?”

Aerith stared desperately at the sandwich on her plate, refusing to make eye contact with her adoptive mother. Yes, five minutes ago, she _had_ been okay. In fact, she had been okay ever since she took a shower. She figured Zack must’ve started his ‘distracting’ by that point.

But now? 

_Nope_.

Elmyra’s frown deepened from across the table, and she dropped her voice to the lowest of whispers. “Is this about Zack?”

Currents of Lifestream-induced fear and dread twisted throughout Aerith’s panicking mind and body. When Cissnei had escorted her home the day before last, she confided in her mother about the coverup of Zack’s death, but not about who he was _with_. The news of him _running away_ with two _other _renegade SOLDIERs who were presumed dead...Elmyra would_ not_ like her being involved in something so risky against ShinRa. 

_Please, Genesis, calm down, _Aerith squeezed her eyes shut, trying to harness whatever Cetra abilities she had to send back peaceful energy. She then managed a small nod to her mother.

“I know how hard it can be,” Elmyra soothed, reaching across the table to touch her daughter’s arm. “Even though he stayed loyal, my husband…well, it was _really_ hard, never knowing if he was alright or not, day after day.”

“Yeah,” Aerith managed, trying to put on a more positive persona. ‘Trying’ being the key word.

“If that boy’s got any sense, he’ll stay hidden for a while,” Elmyra continued, offering Aerith a rueful smile before nibbling on her own sandwich. “Still, those damn Turks are bloody good trackers…”

_That’s not very reassuring, Mum._

“SOLDIERs are sneaky - Zack knows what he’s up against,” Aerith whispered. Man, she was _really_ struggling to contain the emotional tsunami crashing inside her skull…

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry,” Elmyra cringed, bringing a hand to her face. “I didn’t mean…it’s just, the Turks found you, and they never leave us_ alone_…”

“Mum, it’s okay,” Aerith mumbled. The chair groaned against the floor as she stood and pushed it back. “I’m...going to lie down for a bit.” 

“Alright…” her mother murmured, her voice tainted with guilt at her poor choice of words. “Don’t forget your lunch.”

Despite her overwhelming anxiety, Aerith popped a brief kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Thanks.”

And with that, she gingerly made her way upstairs to her room, and Elmyra watched on with a weariness she felt too young to know.

* * *

“_The General has landed. You have half an hour to intercept. Coordinates coming shortly. Good luck.”_

Angeal stared at the PHS in his hand, the faint message buzz still echoing in her ears.

He wasn’t going to kid himself. He was terrified.

But, unlike Genesis - and who could blame him, given his degraded mental state - Angeal was _very _good at keeping it hidden.

And honestly? He _had_ to.

Especially now, given that both Genesis and Zack had fixed him with wide-eyed stares.

All he could do was slip the PHS away, clear his throat, and confirm the news he knew they suspected.

“It’s time.”

“Good goddess,” Genesis breathed, his grip on Cobalt’s ruff tightening. For the last almost-hour, the cuddly griffon had been curled up next to him on the mattress, his head nestled right beside his knees.

_Have peace. You’ll be okay._

Genesis blinked.

Oh _no._ Now he was hearing _voices…_

_…_unless…?

“I’m sorry, man,” Zack’s started, interrupted the redhead’s confused thoughts. “Cobalt’s gotta come with.”

“Of course,” Genesis mumbled, sidling away as the griffon began to shuffle. He gave him a farewell pet, to which Cobalt responded with a gentle, happy chirp and a friendly headbutt into his palm. “Thank you, Cobalt.”

Angeal, having made note of Sephiroth’s whereabouts on his PHS, briskly made his way over to Genesis. He gently leaned his treasured Buster Sword against the wall next to the bed.

“Take care of it,” he said simply as he slipped his modest materia accessory around the handle.

Genesis pinned him with a concerned stare. Was Angeal _mad?_ No materia, and no _Buster Sword!?_ “Wait- what’s going on?” 

“We’re maximising our chances of trust,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I want to show Sephiroth that _we_ trust _him_, despite everything.”

“I know, Gen - I’m still shitting myself about it,” Zack admitted, tossing his own sword on the sofa.

The degrading SOLDIER felt his heart leap in his chest from fright. He _hated_ seeing them so vulnerable.

_Don’t worry - they’ll be okay too._

Genesis felt his nose crinkle in concentration. _...the goddess?_

Zack dusted his hands with finality, and then, with a wide stance, spread his arms out expectantly. “One more thing, fellas.”

Both Angeal and Genesis looked at him with utter confusion.

“Oh _come on_,” Zack groaned, waving his arms. “As much as I hate to say it, this could be _my last hug ever_. Get over here.”

Naturally, even as Angeal moved to embrace his old student, he expected Genesis to politely decline. When he felt himself encircled by both Zack _and_ his childhood friend, he had to admit...his heart swelled with pride.

“You’re coming back here alive,” Genesis mumbled into Angeal’s shoulder. “Or, so _Minerva help me-_”

“We will,” came Zack’s stubborn reply, “and we’ll bring back a chocobo too.”

Angeal snorted with a laugh. Surely he had to be referring to Cloud - _no one _could forget those blonde messy spikes in a hurry. 

“_One_ pet’s enough,” Genesis lamented somewhat playfully as the three men released each other. 

“Alright. You ready to go, Zack?” Angeal put a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“No, but I never will be,” he chuckled slightly, scratching Cobalt’s head absently. “Alright, bud, let’s mosey.”

“If we’re not back in an hour or two, _hide,_” Angeal warned. “Until then, keep it together.”

Genesis nodded mutely. After all, he couldn’t have spoken if he _wanted_ to - in that moment, it felt like there was an emotional _war_ inside of him. Anxious terror was roaring with ferocity, but an equally powerful force of _calm_ was somehow starting to subdue the beast.

“See you on the other side,” Zack winked, trying to downplay his own jittery emotions. As SOLDIERs and griffon started to exit the cabin, Genesis managed to find his voice.

“_Thank_ _you,_” he breathed, knowing their enhanced ears would hear him. 

And then, in moments, Genesis found himself completely alone.

_Breathe deeply, and then relax. Stay calm. I’m here._

“Who is…?” Genesis whispered to himself, looking needlessly to the ceiling. That voice, so soft and gentle, was obviously not his. _Could this really be...the goddess? Or just my own diseased mind?_

_Don’t be afraid; there’s no need to worry. You’re in good hands._

“Minerva…?”

The voice didn’t seem to respond. All he could hear were whispers of calmness, gentle words telling him to relax, and a blanket of serene warmth encircling his being. 

And, somehow...he could smell...flowers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Heck. That was one hell of a long-ass chapter. My plan for it looked so short, too! :P Anyway, more tears! I can’t stop making these blokes cry. Oh dear. And I’m afraid that’s not the last of the feels… 
> 
> Also. I really want Cobalt as a pet now. Heck. It’s so easy to make him adorable! I just love writing him, haha. 
> 
> Cobalt is best boy.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the long-awaited update. Chapter 10 is the big one!
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a AutumnalBlep


	10. The Reunion, Part I

_Zzz..._

“Oi. You.”

A cold, steel-toed boot roughly prodded him in the side.

_Wha…?_

“Wake the _hell _up_, _grunt.”

Cloud hesitantly cracked an eye open, only to see three crimson lights glaring down at him like devil’s eyes. 

_Oh, thank god. Not Sephiroth._

Just one pissed off infantry pilot with the dreaded crimson scarf of asshole authority. That’s what his fellow troopers whinged about, anyway...

“The hell’s wrong with you?” The pilot’s scowl deepend and he readied another kick. “I _said-”_

Cloud scooted away just in time, scrambling upright from his position on the helicopter floor. “S-sorry sir-” he started, bringing a hand to his mouth as his stomach lurched, “I didn’t mean to-”

“Falling asleep? On duty? _In front of the General?”_ The pilot – obviously a man with a stick up his ass – roughly grabbed Cloud by the front of his shirt. “SOLDIER is always giving us the dirty, and you show us up like _this?_”

Cloud felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He knew his place, but...he hadn’t come all this way to have some prick with a seniority complex just_ run_ him over. 

“Better than vomiting on him,” he mumbled into his scarf.

Okay, not a hospital-grade burn – but for Cloud, that was a daring comment.

“God, they let a week-old kitten like _you _in the army?” With motion sickness? Bloody idiots,” the pilot spat, releasing his grip on Cloud. He couldn’t believe someone up the ladder had decided such a blonde-haired _baby_ was worth Sephiroth’s time…

Cloud bristled at this accusation of weakness. In seconds, needles of aggression prickled under his skin and his fists balled in anticipation of a fight.

No. _Don’t_.

Cloud hissed in a breath. 

He couldn’t screw up. Not like this.

Instead, he distracted himself by tidying his sleep-tousled appearance, but soon caught sight of Sephiroth entering the hold again.

“Perimeter check complete,” the General announced. “Are we ready to commence the mission?”

Cloud offered his best salute. “Sir!”

Sephiroth inclined his head in a nod. He then looked to the pilot, who was taking a long sip from a water bottle. “I’ll be in touch when the mission is complete. Head to Icicle Inn until then.”

“Certainly, General,” the pilot replied with uncharacteristic politeness. He offered a well-practiced salute, but as soon as Sephiroth stepped outside, his devil-like visor gaze was on Cloud again. 

“Don’t think you’re special just because he _spoke_ to you, _kitten_,” he sneered as Cloud moved to pass him. 

The blonde cadet resolutely bit his lip and ignored the insult. The angry, snarling Nibel wolf inside of him was threatening to tear the pilot a new one, but he refused to break rank.

Not when learning from the world’s greatest SOLDIER was on the line.

* * *

It was strangely quiet.

Snowy terrain was nothing to Sephiroth, but to a mere cadet, it was a damp slog of heavy footfalls the entire journey.

So for Cloud to have such a lightness about his pace was _definitely _unusual, but not unwelcome. It certainly gave his delicate hearing a rest, particularly after hours of the helicopter’s roar.

However, with silence...came a wandering mind.

Sephiroth repressed a shiver as he and his charge headed deeper into the mountainous terrain. Despite having enhanced temperature regulation, he didn’t appreciate the biting winds.

Nor, he imagined, did his old friends when they were here.

_Not exactly a favourable place to...degrade_, Sephiroth presumed, a troubled frown tainting his expression. Whatever possessed Genesis and Angeal to seek answers _here_, with such huge risks to their health… It was very perplexing.

One might’ve even considered it _suspicious_. 

The mission reports told of a fatal skirmish between his friends - and they were verified by the Turks, who, Sephiroth guessed, kept covert tabs on any missions involving the three.

For once, he was grateful for a lack of security footage.

Despite being no stranger to death, to see Genesis, Angeal and Zack destroy each other… 

Not even _he_ could’ve handled that.

A shy voice broke the silence. “Hey, sir… are we within the target’s range yet?”

Impressive. Cloud had managed to catch him up almost _silently. _

Sephiroth gently tapped his own ear. “We’ll know soon enough. I haven’t heard anything monstrous yet.”

“It’s odd…” Cloud murmured, keeping pace with Sephiroth. “We haven’t seen _any_ monsters, actually.”

“They’re probably hiding from our mutant griffon, if the briefing holds true,” the General replied quietly.

“Ah.”

The pair then fell into silence again as they continued their snowy trek. While they made progress up a steep incline, Sephiroth observed the young cadet from the edge of his vision. Somehow, despite being completely unenhanced, Cloud was keeping up without trouble.

“Your pace is impressive,” the General remarked. At this he heard Cloud’s footsteps falter slightly, followed by a deep inhale and a quiet reply. 

“Well...I’m a country boy.”

“Oh? From where?”

Cloud, by now, was convinced the universe was playing a cruel joke on him. 

“N-Nibelheim,” he breathed, gritting his teeth. By now, he was ridiculously expecting jovial laughter to greet him.

Sephiroth froze.

That name _prodded_ his mind, like it should hold importance.

Was it...familiarity?

But he’d never set foot there...had he?

“Sir?”

The General took a moment to gather his thoughts. “My apologies. The name sounded familiar.”

“Oh, the reactor,” Cloud mumbled, shaking his head with sad amusement. “That’s probably why.”

“Perhaps. However, the area must be remarkable in some way, if it brought a promising cadet like you into the fold.” Sephiroth offered a reserved half-smile. “Have you considered the SOLDIER program?”

Oh_ God._ First the emotional flood from earlier, and now admitting his inadequacies…? Despite being on unexpectedly friendly terms with his hero, Cloud wanted an avalanche to sweep him off the mountain. 

“I failed.” Cloud’s voice was clipped and swirling with humiliation.

Sephiroth raised a brow, finding this difficult to believe. “Have you made another attempt?”

“...many.”

“Hm.” The General’s expression tightened with thought. SOLDIER was short-staffed enough as it was...how was it they passed over Cloud every single time?

“It’s the mako,” Cloud spat in frustration. “It just… _messes_ with my head.”

“Commander Hewley could’ve coached you on that,” Sephiroth murmured, sadness lacing his voice. Having a firm grasp on one’s identity and sense of self was critical for enduring mako treatments, and once upon a time, that was Angeal’s speciality. That is, of course, until Hollander’s reprehensible truths came to light...

Cloud startled briefly. “No offense to him - o-or to you, sir - but he sorta...knocked my lights out when I met him. On my last mission.” 

“...I see,” the silver General winced. He truly wished he’d pinned Angeal down for more answers when he had the ch-

_“Skreee!”_

Instantly, Sephiroth stopped midpace. Cloud hurriedly did the same, and looked to the legendary SOLDIER with confusion. He clearly hadn’t heard the target griffon’s cry. 

Sephiroth closed his eyes in concentration and gave the trooper a ‘shh’ gesture with his hand.

The griffon sounded again, only this time, a distinctively _human_ voice followed it.

_“No! Stop-!”_

Turquoise eyes snapped open in uncharacteristic shock.

_That voice- _

No.

No, no, _no._

It _had_ to be some twisted side-effect of grief.

He was _too enhanced_ to be hearing _voices_ in the middle of-

_“Urgh…”_

Cloud watched on with growing anxiety. Clearly, Sephiroth was freaking out about _something_ he’d heard. 

The blonde cadet didn’t get a chance to voice his concerns, however - Sephiroth leapt into a run with the barest hint of a ‘follow me’ gesture. 

“Ack- _hold on!”_ Cloud panicked, breaking into a sprint as the General left him behind. Trying to maintain a walking pace with Sephiroth was one thing - but _running_? There wasn’t a chance he’d keep up!

Unfortunately for Cloud, his whereabouts had crashed to the bottom of Sephiroth’s priority list. There was only room for one thought to loop in the General’s mind as he darted through the snow.

_It can’t be Zack it can’t be Zack it can’t be Za-_

With each frantic breath, he repeated this brand new mantra. He _had_ to keep a level head. Even so, that _didn’t_ slow his lightning-fast sprint across the uneven terrain…

Several breathless minutes later, Sephiroth’s ears pricked at the sound of talons dragging against snow and the faint shift of feathers. Crashing through the area as he currently was would _definitely_ blow his cover.

To keep the element of surprise, Sephiroth slowed his frenetic pace into a low crouch and deftly slipped behind a mess of jagged, snow-covered rocks. 

From there, he peered just over the edge to locate his mutant target.

Sure enough, some distance away, a griffon was snuffling around in the snow.

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he focused.

Oh, of _course_.

It _had_ to be a godforsaken _Angeal _copy_, _didn’t it?

The armoured plating, the golden accents, the brilliant ivory feathers… it was unmistakable. Strangely though, he _could_ see the creature’s eyes - and this broke tradition with every other masked copy he’d had the misfortune of seeing. Given this peculiarity, maybe the copy was also a talented mimic, and used the voice of an injured Zack to lure unsuspecting travellers.

_Surely_ Lazard had known about this...and had ridiculously thought, _‘hey, the perfect mission for Sephiroth - certainly not traumatising at all!’_

Meanwhile the copy, unaware of the catlike stare from Sephiroth, continued its searching, whuffing in apparent sadness as it digged at the icy ground.

The General watched on, and his heart tightened with grim certainty. _It’s probably lost, confused and angry without a master_. _Best to put it out of its misery - and finally lay Project G to rest._

As he retreated behind the rocks again, he caught sight of Cloud finally reaching him. Unsurprisingly, the cadet was exhausted from the effort, and Sephiroth felt an unexpected tug of responsibility. Long ago, he’d adamantly refused the SOLDIER mentorship program, but perhaps being to Cloud like Angeal was to Zack would give _himself_ direction.

In a way, he felt sympathy with the Angeal copy. Lost and purposeless.

But perhaps not anymore.

“You move...so fast…” Cloud managed between gulps of air. A pointed glance and a silent ‘shh’ from Sephiroth made him fall silent as he gingerly crept towards the General.

“As a SOLDIER, when you see - or hear - an opening, you never hesitate,” Sephiroth whispered. “I apologise for the lack of warning.”

“S’okay,” Cloud breathed. Frustration at the General melted away in favour of awe, and he eagerly filed away this advice. 

“The key to a griffon is twofold,” Sephiroth continued, raising his katana slightly. “Disable the wings via ambush, then deliver the killing strike.”

Cloud’s mouth formed an ‘o’ in realisation. “Like a Nibel dragon!”

“Precisely,” the General smirked. “If your sword misses the mark, paralyse the wings with lightning.” The blonde trooper nodded eagerly as several sparks jumped between Sephiroth’s gloved fingers.

“Watch me closely, and if any other monsters move in, distract them,” Sephiroth then instructed, dusting snow from his legs as he stood up. 

“But...you’re _Sephiroth_,” Cloud stammered, feeling small. “As if you’d need backup!”

“But _you_ need practice, correct?” Sephiroth retorted. “Live targets are better than cutouts in the training facilities.”

“Y-yes sir,” Cloud managed. His heart was fluttering like an excitable chocobo in his chest. Sephiroth was _teaching_ him! _Him! _Hah! _Not just a ‘week-old kitten’ anymore, buddy…!_

“In position, cadet,” the General nodded to him, a hint of amusement on his face. 

Cloud gave him a strong salute, and nimbly climbed half-way up the rock pile to aim his rifle over the edge. 

Sephiroth gave the blonde cadet a nod of approval. Then, with Masamune at the ready, he began to creep towards his unsuspecting prey.

In a matter of seconds, he silently closed the distance while staying out of sight. Simultaneously, the blissfully unaware griffon pounced with fox-like precision into a snowbank. It clawed vigorously in the mound, apparently intent on finding something.

_The perfect moment_.

Sephiroth breathed in, tightened his grip on Masamune’s hilt, and-

“Waitwait_WAIT!”_

Everything happened in an instant.

A frantic person with alarmingly familiar raven hair burst from the snowbank. The griffon shrieked in surprise, saw Sephiroth, hissed in animalistic rage and puffed out in defence to appear double the size. Gunshots fired, and several bullets peppered the ground near the griffon’s back paws. 

In the chaos, Sephiroth, the famed SOLDIER of unstoppable force, actually _hesitated_. 

He paused mid-strike, leaving his katana to rest mere millimetres from one of griffon’s unfurled wings. The birdlion screeched in alarm before darting out of the blade’s way, iridescent mako eyes flashing in fear. Once away from Masamume’s reach, the griffon placed itself squarely between Sephiroth and what was _maybe_ Zack and snarled with guttural aggression.

“_Stop!” _The snowy figure shifted behind the griffon’s feathers. “Please - _don’t hurt him!”_

In the next second, a thousand conflicting fragments of thought collided in Sephiroth’s mind. 

_You read the report. You know Zack isn’t really here._

_You just _want_ him to be._

_The mako concentration in the area is making you hallucinate._

_It’s time to move on_.

_Your duty demands it._

_Finish._

His left hand clenched Masamume’s hilt with forceful resolution.

_Your._

His eyes, narrow and focused, turned cold.

_Mission._

_Oof!_

“Sephiroth, _NO!_ That’s _Zack!_”

A slurry of icy wetness broke his resolve.

Decidedly _heavy _and _pounding_ footfalls rang in his ears as he brushed the remains of a snowball from his eyes. As this happened, _Zack Fair_ himself had managed to clamber in front of the griffon, seemingly trying to _protect it._

“Holy shit Seph please don’t hurt him he’s a good boy I swear-”

Before Sephiroth could fully comprehend the truth of Zack’s survival, he felt the force of a ShinRa infantryman shove him sideways.

Which, really, meant he shifted barely an inch. 

“Couldn’t you _see_ him!?” Cloud exclaimed, panic and confusion plain in his non-enhanced eyes. 

Sephiroth, completely unaccustomed to _anything_ that was currently happening, was stunned into silence. Had the blonde trooper focused on him longer, he would’ve startled at the distant, empty expression the General was now displaying. 

“And _you!_” The blonde cadet whirled on Zack, shoving him in the chest - albeit with similar results to Sephiroth. “What the ever-fricking _hell!_? What are you doing!? That thing’s dangerous and also _how are you not dead!? _Why didn’t you say something!?”

“Whoa, whoaaaa,” Zack insisted, grabbing Cloud’s arm before the trooper cut himself open on Sephiroth’s still hovering katana. “Easy there, spike-”

“_Easy_ there? _Seriously_? Are you _kidding?_” Cloud hissed, wrenching himself from the SOLDIER’s intentionally loose grip. Not a moment later, he leapt sideways as the griffon gave him a warning strike with its talons.

“_Shit-! _Sorry, sorry- he’s just protecting me-” Zack started, turning to the griffon with a soft, low voice. “Shh, Cobalt, they won’t hurt us. It’s okay. Right, Sephiroth? ...Seph?”

Sephiroth, frozen in place, looked as still and stoic as a statue. Not even his sword wavered from hand movement. 

Zack backtracked quickly. _Damn!_ It was _so_ easy to fall into the old camaraderie he’d built with the General. He had to expect this sort of reaction.

“Seph, _please,” _he murmured, “I can explain-”

Sephiroth slowly raised a hand, his face blank, his stare unbelievably cold.

“Don’t.” 

“But-”

“_Don’t._”

All the pieces were lining up with agonising perfection. 

Zack defected. Just like everyone else.

Did _no one_ give enough of a shit about him to explain? Genesis, Angeal, and Zack.._.all of them,_ _the bastards,_ disappeared without a word of explanation.

Did he _ever_ have their trust?

Or was he just too _ShinRa_ for them to even consider understanding?

And Lazard.

He was _in on it._

For some unfathomable reason, he thought it good to send him _here_ \- despite knowing doing so would break him. 

And the only reason he could be convinced to go was founded on yet _more_ deception.

Why was_ no one_ ever upfront with him?

Were all his relationships just..._lies?_ Was he just some _tool_ for everyone to manipulate for their own gain, discarding him when they no longer had a use for him? 

Well.

If a _tool_ was all he could be, then he should fulfill his purpose.

Remove the traitor and report back the victory.

At this thought, Masamune twitched - then slowly rose to point directly at Zack’s chest. 

Cobalt’s threatening rumbles intensified, but the slightest pet from a motionless Zack kept him from moving. With herculean effort, the young SOLDIER took the steadiest breath he could manage, and met Sephiroth’s gaze. 

“Cloud, Seph- _please_,” he implored, squeezing Cobalt’s ruff to calm them both, “hear me- ah, I mean, _us -_ out.” 

Sephiroth scraped the tip of his deadly blade against Zack’s heart, but his mind was reeling at the other’s words. ..._us_?

“And _why_ should I?”

Zack flinched at the sheer _chill_ of the General’s tone, but made a slight head gesture at something beyond Sephiroth’s position regardless. 

Whilst the General didn’t move a muscle, Cloud’s gaze followed Zack’s, only to land squarely on a terrifyingly familiar broad-shouldered man with a white wing. He flinched out of instinct as _Angeal himself _carefully approached the tense group.

The colour draining from Cloud’s face was, oddly, enough to make Sephiroth finally turn his head. 

If finding Zack was the initial stab, then encountering Angeal was the twisting of the knife. 

However, if there was a mental war raging inside Sephiroth’s head, he made it damn near impossible to tell. All he did was regard Angeal with an empty glare - the same one he graced Hojo with after particularly bad medical appointments.

It was a look Angeal knew too well.

Did he feel he deserved it?

_Absolutely_.

In one slow, deliberate motion, the white-winged SOLDIER kneeled into the snow, just out of Masamune’s reach, and raised his empty hands. 

Sephiroth’s gaze tightened. Angeal, strangely, was without his signature Buster sword, and the only magical tug of materia the General could sense was his own. 

“A man without honour deserves nothing. All we - all _I_ can do - is beg for you to listen,” Angeal breathed, bowing his head in what appeared to be _shame_. “We’re unarmed. Do with us as you wish. We trust you.”

At Angeal’s nod, Zack followed suit and kneeled. This vulnerable maneuver spooked Cobalt, who resolutely tried to shield Zack again with his bulk. The young SOLDIER stroked his feathers and shushed him before gently pushing on Cobalt’s shoulder to encourage him to sit. With an indignant squawk, he submitted - but still rumbled a low growl and glared at Sephiroth for good measure.

O_kay, this is freaky_. Cloud swallowed nervously as he watched Zack put himself at Sephiroth’s mercy. Given the General had almost _sliced him to bits_ earlier, he was finding it difficult not to just drag Zack away until Sephiroth was completely level-headed again.

Meanwhile, the young raven-haired SOLDIER let slip a sigh of relief as Sephiroth’s katana dipped from his chest to point at his knees. _That’s gotta be a good sign..._

“Give me one_ damn good _reason not to expose you to ShinRa this _instant_,” Sephiroth spat, the words dripping with a venom Zack had only _ever_ experienced from Genesis until that moment.

Angeal released a defeated sigh. “Honestly, I...don’t think I have one.”

Zack coughed nervously, deciding just to _blurt_ the truth. Angeal _did_ say honesty was best…

“Sephiroth, Cloud...I’m _so sorry_. On the mission, I had to- I had to _fight_ Genesis,” Zack stammered, his expression twisting with remorse. “I nearly _killed him_...and…” the young SOLDIER’s voice trailed off. He stared down at the snow and shook his head. “I just..._couldn’t_...”

Angeal tried to offer the hint of a wry smile as Sephiroth processed Zack’s words. “In the end, Seph...he was like _you._”

Sephiroth flinched, not wanting to dwell on that parallel. What did that say about his integrity if Zack, feeling similarly, so easily turned rebel? 

“I should have reached out, I was just...angry, and afraid,” Zack mumbled. “I was worried that if I spilled the beans to either of you, ShinRa would be on our asses.”

He looked pleadingly from Cloud’s bewildered expression to Sephiroth’s uncertain gaze.

“I didn’t trust you then, and I was wrong. So now…” Zack breathed, swallowing his nerves, “...I’m making it right. Give us an hour to explain.”

“...and if that doesn’t change your allegiance, we’ll merely get what we deserve,” Angeal finished, bowing his head. 

Sephiroth’s brows creased in consideration as a chilly breeze ruffled the other man’s brilliant feathers.

...what _did_ they deserve?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good grief I am so sorry for the giant-ass hiatus everyone
> 
> I’ve been wrestling with this chapter for months, and only finally scrounged up enough inspiration to finish it. Part II is underway and all planned out for the most part, I just…need to…you know, write it. Haha.
> 
> Anyhow it was interesting to write Cobalt from Sephiroth’s perspective…a bit more feral and less cute this time. :P 
> 
> Also, writing Cloud has been very entertaining. It was especially satisfying to have him basically lose his shit at Zack, I won’t lie. 
> 
> Anywho. Enough rambling. I still love this story and I will finish it. One day. If other one-shot ideas and things leave my brain alone. Until then, look forward to Chapter 11!
> 
> ~ May, a.k.a AutumnalBlep

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Feathers and Frittery](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21683458) by [TyrantChimera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrantChimera/pseuds/TyrantChimera)


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